Lonji's Story
by Wonkaverse
Summary: An Oompa-Loompa finds himself somehow transported out of Wonka's factory, and to a future society where his people have colonized a new planet. Is it all a dream that he'll wake up from? And as memories of the factory grow dim, will he want to wake up? Rated T for some language
1. Chapter 1

**Discliamer** : Wonka and Oompa-loompas are owned by Warner Brothers and created by Roald Dahl, just FYI.

 _Author's Note_ : Ever wonder what the Oompa-Loompa people (2005 movie version) would have been like if they'd been able to establish their own civilization in the far future? One of us did, at like three in the morning. So this happened.

* * *

"What is your name?" an omnipotent voice asked in the darkness. It was firm but trusting; raspy yet understandable. The Oompa-loompa who heard it paused before answering, trying to find the right words.

"I do not have a name; I have an alphanumeric identification. FS-MC-221. FS-221 for short."

"Well then, tell me...FS-221...where do you live?"

The Loompa's answer came more quickly this time.

"In Charlie Wonka's factory, in a base on the moon."

The voice took a moment to respond.

"And what year is it in this...moon base?"

"Early 2000's, though it's hard to tell since we've gone to the Galactic Standard."

The voice made no comment, moving on to the next question.

"If you cannot recall the precise year, then can you recall your age? How old are you, Mr...221?"

The Loompa snorted, as if insulted. "Physically, ten. Biologically, thirty."

"How is that possible?" the voice asked, obviously skeptical.

"I am a clone, one of many. I've only been in service for ten years," 221 explained. "We are incepted with the bodies of a twenty year old so that we can begin service during the age of peak performance."

The voice was quiet for a moment, then murmured as if in apology. "I'm sorry to tell you this, my friend, but none of these things you have said are true. Open your eyes now."

The Loompa opened his eyes and the darkness retreated. He found himself lying on a couch in an office. It was decorated in neutral tones, with beige carpet and olive drab curtains and equally drab lampshades and furniture to match. Across from him sat an older Oompa-loompa who paused to smooth back his frizzy, greying hair before scribbling something in the notepad on his lap. He looked up at 221, the wrinkles under his eyes disguising any emotion.

"You're not this FS-221," he said. "None of the things you just told me are real, and you know it, Lonji. They are delusions…nothing more. A fantasy in your mind. We've been through this before, remember?"

The younger Loompa sat up suddenly, as if finally waking up. No, he didn't remember talking to this man. He didn't remember this place, or even how he came to be here. And who the hell was Lonji? He jumped off the couch and ran for the door. The older Loompa made no move to stop him, only pausing to add to his notes, muttering to himself.

"Patient displays agitation and heightened delusional episodes. Suggest increased dosage of cocozeine."

The younger Loompa reached the door and turned the knob, throwing the door open with force fueled by adrenaline. He did not know why he was here. The last thing he remembered was going to work in the jelly department of the factory. Maybe he hadn't woken up yet, still stuck in a dream. Or maybe this was all in his head, a weird fantasy or bad trip. But the doorknob in his hand certainly felt real, and the hallways that stretched before him looked real, and when an Oompa-loompa clad in a white uniform grabbed him from the side and pressed him against the wall to restrain him, he knew without a doubt...he would be in deep shit if he didn't remember any of this soon.

His session resumed, but he was now bound by the hands. The white-clad orderly returned him to the couch, and with a nod to the man in the chair, he went to the back of the room and closed the door. He stayed in the room, though, standing in front of the door with his hands clasped in front of him. _No doubt he was standing guard in case of another escape attempt_ , 221 thought sourly. Not that it would matter if this was just a dream, _if_ this was a dream. And if it wasn't, well...he pushed the thought aside, knowing that thinking about it wouldn't help him now. He needed answers. Facts. Something he could stand on, hold to. He drew in a deep breath, straightening as best as he could with his hands tied behind his back. The man across from him raised his head to look him in the eyes.

"Finally ready to settle down and talk, Lonji? You know it would help us all a lot if you could learn to control those outbursts. I know Rogin would appreciate it," he said, indicating the stoic orderly with a tilt of his head.

221 bit back a sharp retort, but he nodded slowly. "So I am Lonji," he murmured. The words rolled awkwardly off his tongue, as if he was uncomfortable with the idea of having a name. "Who are you?"

The other Loompa sighed, setting his pen and file aside so that he could fold his hands on his lap and gaze directly at the other. "I am Dr. Galyan, your psychiatrist. Your friend. Don't you remember, Lonji? You've been seeing me here for three years. Your sister has been bringing you."

"My...sister?" 221...no, Lonji…struggled to make sense of this information. _First I'm crazy, then I'm crazy for three YEARS, and now I have a SISTER!?_ His mind reeled with the thought. He looked around the room, then at himself, as if seeing everything for the first time. He felt his hands, looked at his shoes, touched his clothes. Nothing felt the same as it did as in his memories from the factory, but it all felt just as real: his soft, younger skin, his smooth, flowing tunic. He stood up again, struggling to maintain his balance with his hands behind his back. Rogin, the orderly, tensed. He was ready to spring in case Lonji made another break for it, but the psychiatrist motioned for him to stay put while the patient went to the nearest window, trying to push the curtains aside without using his hands.

"Where are we?" he asked, suddenly desperate to know. " _When_ are we?"

Dr. Galyan calmly rose from his chair and strode over to him, drawing the curtains back in one smooth motion. Lonji froze, his memories of the factory all but forgotten. The window overlooked a dense forest canopy, broken only by buildings and platforms that gleamed in the light of bright twin suns. Pod-shaped aircraft and strange, exotic birds streaked through the sky, and everywhere, there were tiny people...Oompa-loompas! Lonji could hardly breathe. "What is this place?" he managed to whisper. Dr. Galyan rasped a chuckle, laying a hand on his patient's shoulder. "Loompaland, in the year 3000."

Lonji absorbed the information, and as profound as it was, he could only think of one reply. "It's amazing."

"Well, of course it is," Dr. Galyan said, amused. But it's not any different than it was when you first came in. You've only been here for an hour. In fact, it's almost time—ah, it _is_ time." The psychiatrist started walking for the door, and Lonji followed him.

"Time for what?"

"Time for you to go home, my boy! Rogin will take you to Reception; your sister is probably waiting, as she usually is. Get your rest, and practice those relaxation techniques we went over in our last session. You should have the example video at home if you can't remember how to do them." He pushed Lonji gently toward Rogin, whose stony expression made Lonji wonder if he had frustrated the orderly one too many times. His expression did not change when he took hold of Lonji's shoulder, but he did remove the restraints so that Lonji could move his hands.

"Goodnight, Dr. Galyan," was all the orderly said before escorting Lonji down the halls. Before long, they came to a door that looked very heavy, and needed to be opened using a keycard. Rogin produced a card and swiped it through the pad, and the door hissed, popped, and cracked open. He pushed it open wider, and nudged Lonji through.

"See you next week," he said. And though his expression did not change, he winked, then pulled the door shut.


	2. Chapter 2

For a minute, Lonji couldn't move, daunted by what should have been an ordinary, everyday scene. But nothing was ordinary to him. There were men and women and _children_ Oompa-Loompas, sitting in chairs, talking to each other in low voices, reading magazines, looking intently at devices that seemed to be miniature datapads.

"Lonji!"

The unfamiliar voice startled him, breaking him from his reverie. He looked for its owner, shock deepening when he saw a pretty woman about his height, waving for him to join her. Though he could hardly remember how to use his legs at the moment, he managed to stumble toward her, drawing pitied looks from other people.

 _They must think I'm retarded!_ He thought, mortified, though ordinarily he wouldn't care. He forced himself to walk smoothly, overcorrected, and tripped just before he reached his sister. He crashed into her and almost knocked her onto the floor, but she caught herself and helped him stand up, smiling cheerfully.

"Oh Lonji, you need to stop forgetting how to use your feet!"

She led him toward the exit, unaware that her brother was flushed in embarrassment. Lonji wondered if she was older than him, or vice versa, or if they were twins. He longed to ask her if they had any other siblings, or parents, and just how often she had needed to stop him from falling. A buzz from his sister's tunic startled him from his thoughts, but she was unperturbed.

"It must be granddad," she said, reaching into a pocket to pull out one of the miniature datapads.

"What's that?" Lonji said, knowing that it was probably a dumb question. Though his sister smiled skeptically, she answered anyway.

"It's a cellphone, dummy. Touchscreen. It's old tech from Earth, but new micro-processing devices make them far more efficient." She pushed open the door to the exit, and stepped outside, talking into the cellphone. Lonji followed her, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the two suns. But didn't Earth have one sun? This new Loompaland wasn't on Earth!

His eyes adjusted to the brightness, though he had to squint to compensate. He could see that they had come out of a building that poked out of the treetops, and were now standing on a large platform. Judging by the numerous vehicles there, it was most likely a parking lot.

"Hey, Lonji, let's go!"

His sister's voice shattered his thoughts again, and he frowned. _Can't a guy have some time to think?_ Well…perhaps not out in this sunlight. He realized that he was feeling quite hot, sweat starting to soak through his tunic. He trotted over to where his sister stood, just outside one of the pod-shaped vehicles. It was three times as long as he was tall, fully enclosed, magenta colored…a designer model perhaps. She pressed the screen on her cellphone, and the pod thrummed, like it was starting up. She pressed the screen again, and the side of the pod slid open.

"How did you do that?" Lonji asked as they climbed in. He was familiar with some Earth technology, but he had thought cellphones were for talking to people, not operating vehicles.

His sister laughed.

"It's an app...that's short for 'application', if you've forgotten that, too . There's an app for almost everything nowadays." She paused before looking back at him. "Maybe we should get you a cellphone. You could download an app to record things, so you won't forget so much."

Lonji lowered his head, feeling like a failure for some reason. "And while we're talking about things forgotten, I...I think I forgot your name."

His sister's eyes widened, and a frightened look crossed her face. "My name? Your memory is getting worse then," she whispered quietly, as if struggling to hold back tears. "Dr. Galyan said you were improving, that the medication and exercises were helping. But you're still forgetting everything...our parents, our history, and now my name?" She swallowed, her fear replaced by bitterness. "And for what? For your real life and real memories to be replaced with that nonsense fantasy about living in Wonka's factory..."

"It's not nonsense!" Lonji snapped. He didn't realize he had done it until the words were out of his mouth, and he was sorry as soon as he had said it. His sister looked like she'd been slapped in the face, and she turned away from him. Lonji mentally kicked himself. He was frustrated, but that didn't mean he had to take it out on his sister...or dream sister...or whatever. He sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry...Sis. It's just been a very confusing day for me. I'm not sure what's real and what's not." Now he had a lump in his throat, and it was difficult to swallow down. "I need help, he managed to say, "Your help."

His sister did not respond for a minute, and Lonji was afraid he had hurt her. But she finally turned around and embraced him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"That's why your sister, Lylia, is here."

"Lylia," Lonji said to himself, hoping that he would not forget again, if he had indeed forgotten the first time. He returned the embrace, feeling something in his chest that he had never felt before, at least, not that he could remember. Love for a family, which he had never felt when he had been in Wonka's factory. Sure, he had felt like a brother and comrade to all the other workers, but there was never really any relationship outside of being a good friend to a few others, or gay couples. It was probably the one fault of having an all-male population, the one limitation of cloning millions from a single genetic template. In any case, it was one thing that Wonka could not offer to his workers, though Lonji felt scandalous just thinking it. He could not deny that his memories of the factory were real, but he could enjoy this dream-if it was a dream…while it lasted.

Lonji held his sister in the dimness of the transport pod for a while, and they both cried. It could have been hours. It could have been minutes. But the pod jarred abruptly to a halt, breaking the two from their embrace. Lonji hadn't even been aware that the vehicle had been moving, but it did, reaching their destination on autopilot. Lylia wiped her tears with the sleeve of her tunic and stood up. The door slid open, blinding Lonji again, but he followed Lylia with less apprehension than before. They emerged on another landing pad, this one smaller, and made of thick wooden planks rather than concrete. It was adjoined to a large, wooden house nestled in the treetops. Lylia started walking toward it.

"That's where we live?!" Lonji said, amazed. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. A far cry from the spherical huts the Oompa-loompa people had lived in so long ago, and nothing like the bunkrooms in Wonka's factory, this house was made with wooden beams, supported by great wooden pillars, and sported a beautiful garden edged with a wooden fence. There was a pathway that led up to the front doors, and the doors themselves were engraved with intricate, looping patterns.

"So much wood!" Lonji said, mostly to himself, but Lylia must have heard it. She turned around to face him, now walking backwards toward the house.

"Well in case you haven't noticed, wood is the most plentiful resource on the planet."

"And that planet would be..."

Lylia rolled her eyes.

"Oh, little brother, sometimes I wonder what planet _you_ live on. Every kid learns about Loompaland history in school...New Loompaland, where we live now, was established on Praxuun V in the year 2600." She shook her head and turned around to face forward.

"Sometimes I wonder how you graduated from junior college with that faulty memory of yours."

The comment stung, but Lonji could see why she would think that way.

 _I graduated college, but I can't remember going to school here, or anything about this place!_

They reached the front door, and Lylia produced a key, manually unlocking the door.

"No one uses real keys anymore, except a rebel few," she said for his benefit.

"But Dad said that soft keys, like cards and embedded chips, were easier to copy these days than real keys."

"How is Dad?" Lonji asked, putting on a hopeful smile. Lylia's grim expression dissolved it.

"Dad...and Mom...have been dead for three years, Lonji." She said the words gently, as if saying them aloud hurt her.

"How did it happen?" Lonji said, his mouth dry.

"It was a KNID ambush," she replied, her eyes dark with anger. "We thought that our military had wiped them off the face of the planet, but we were wrong. Mom, Dad, and you were on the ground, just taking a walk. You had never been on the ground before, since there's really no reason to go down there, so it was an adventure for you. But then the KNIDs struck, killing Dad, attacking you..." Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to finish. "Mom died protecting you. The Ground Patrol were alerted to the attack, and they nearly didn't get there in time to save you." She opened the door, but paused before going in. "I think that's where your memory problems began."

The news of his late parents dazed him. But even that was swept aside when Lonji stepped inside the house. If he had thought the exterior was amazing, the interior was even more so. Aside from lavish carpets and tapestries, various devices from different centuries adorned shelves, walls, and ceiling space. There were old televisions, radios, datapads, and even a lava lamp.

"That's a lot of stuff," Lonji said, not sure whether to be amazed by the collection of old tech, or by the fact that so many devices could be on display in such an orderly fashion. Other than rugs and carpets, nothing was on the floor, and the furniture was free of even the stray remote.

"Granddad likes to collect old technology," Lylia explained, setting her keys and purse on a table near the door.

"He says that one day we might need it, if all the new technology fails."

"Sounds like someone I know," Lonji said, thinking of OS-22, the Oompa-loompa commander and second-highest authority in Wonka's factory. Among the oldest of the Oompa-loompas, he was known to encourage the use of old tech alongside the new.

"Of course you do," Lylia said, "Granddad."

Afraid to disappoint her again, Lonji quickly nodded. "Uh, yeah. Where is he, anyway?"

"He called me when I was picking you up; he said that he was on his way home from the cocoa plant. I'm sure he'll be here shortly."

Lonji was about to ask her about this plant, but the door swung open before he could. He watched as an elderly Oompa-loompa, his salt-and-pepper hair cropped short, shuffled in. He was wearing a white uniform and carried a bag in hand. He noticed Lylia and set down his bag, then embraced her. "Ah, my dear; how are you today?"

She murmured something that her grandfather didn't seem to catch, but he was satisfied. He turned to Lonji with a smile, but his eyes betrayed sadness.

"How was your session with Dr. Galyan today, Lonji? Your memory improving, I hope?"

Though he wanted to please this man, Lonji could not risk hiding that there were huge gaps in his memories, relative to this world, at least. He decided to spring for the vague reply.

"It's getting better," he said, forcing a smile.

The grandfather nodded, but his eyes were still sad. "That's good to hear. Maybe things can get back to normal once your mind has healed." He shuffled away and disappeared down a hallway. Lylia had also gone up a stairway, probably to her room. Lonji found himself alone, feeling that awkwardness that comes from being in an unfamiliar house and not knowing where anything is. He swallowed, trying not to panic.

 _Okay, what would an agent do?_ Lonji thought, not bothering to question the validity of his memories at the moment. From what he knew, an agent from the secret police would probably calm himself and take stock of his surroundings. Good. Lonji breathed deeply, looking around. He was standing by the front door. The room he was in was large and spacious, and led off into a hallway and another large room that was probably a dining area. Across from him, the stairway rose up to the second floor. He listened for movement; he could hear creaking from above as Lylia walked around upstairs. Clinking echoed down from both the hallway and the dining area; both passages probably led to the kitchen, where the grandfather was tidying up. He had a general idea of the house's layout now, though he was sure that if he had his whole memory...or if he was the real Lonji...that he would feel more comfortable in this house. As it was, he didn't think he could ever think of this place as his home. He found himself longing for the great spacious bunkrooms back in Wonka's factory, that could each house up to fifty Oompa-loompas comfortably, and the great big washrooms with saunas and group showers, and the wide, echoing corridors that teemed with throngs of Oompa-loompas going to and from their workstations. Most of all, he missed the huge factory rooms with all the sweets and treats that anyone could ever ask for. Thinking about it made his mouth water, and his stomach rumbled loudly, realizing before he did that he was feeling quite hungry. _When was the last time that Lonji...I...ate?_

His grandfather appeared from the hallway, wiping his hands with a dishcloth. He must've heard Lonji's loud stomach, because his smile was now genuine, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Sounds like somebody's hungry," he said. "Luckily your granddad knows how to whip up dinner."


	3. Chapter 3

It was not long before his grandfather had dinner ready, but Lonji was not sure whether to be appetized, or repulsed. The food was like nothing he had ever seen before: there was a roasted, plucked bird about the size of Lonji's head, sitting on a platter, as well as bowls of cut roots that had been steamed and seasoned. There was also a small bowl of a dark-brownish sauce, but Lonji did not know what it would be used for. He observed as Lylia and his grandfather dished out the roots, cut into the dead bird's flesh to divide between the three of them, and ladled the unknown sauce over all their food. Food like this had never been served at the Factory, but Lonji didn't want to seem impolite; he sipped at his water while Lylia and their grandfather ate.

"What's the matter, Lonji?" his sister asked. "Have you forgotten how to eat now?"

Before he could think of a safe reply, she pushed a plate toward him, already filled with food. Lonji almost recoiled; the smell of the meat was heavy and hot, overpowering everything else on the plate. Lonji could only liken it to the smell of blood—his one fear—and he started to move the plate away. Lylia stopped him.

"Lonji, don't insult Granddad! Besides, this is your favorite-roast pigeon and carrots with cocoa sauce!"

Lonji winced and took back his plate. He took up his fork and poked at the orange, steamed root...the carrot. After a moment of deliberation, he dared a bite, and found that it wasn't bad at all. The carrot was sweet and starchy, accented by the bittersweetness of the cocoa sauce. He dared to taste the meat, not at all sure of how he would feel about it. Under Wonka, Loompakind hadn't eaten meat since they lived in the jungle, now sustained on candy, cocoa beans, and whatever else was produced in-factory.

Lonji ate it, and was astounded. The savory flavor of the meat exploded in his mouth, his rarely-used tastebuds jumping to life at the influx of stimuli. The cocoa sauce made the reaction even more potent, as the sweetness played off of the saltiness of the meat, while the savoryness rounded it off. Lonji cleaned his plate while his sister and granddad watched, amazed. When he was finished, he politely wiped his mouth with a napkin, though that did nothing to help the chocolate sauce stains on his tunic. Lylia smirked at him.

"I've never seen you so hungry before, Lonji. It's like you've never had that meal, though we have it at least once a week."

Lonji began a retort, but it was overpowered by a large burp. His grandfather laughed.

"I'll take that as a compliment! I'm glad you enjoyed it, my boy. It's always a pleasure to cook for my precious grandchildren."

His eyes suddenly clouded as a flood of sad memories overcame him.

"Your parents would be so proud of you."

Lonji felt Lylia's warning gaze on him, but he didn't care. He turned to his grandfather.

"Who were they, Granddad? Our parents, I mean? What did they do?"

The grandfather was silent for a minute, as if gathering his thoughts.

"Your father and mother were very brave people indeed, Lonji. I remember when they first met: your mother, my daughter, was an engineer for a power company on Mars. It had sprung up from the Wonka Company as a separate entity after a female template was added to the cloning system, and the CEO gave the Loompa people their freedom. Your father was a pilot for a trading company, and he flew the route between Mars and Praxuun V...this planet. The two met entirely by coincidence: your mother was delivering company goods to their warehouse for shipment to Praxuun, and your father had come to load and deliver them. She led him on, he caught her, and the rest, as they say, is history." He chuckled. "Of course, I hated your father at first. When he said he wanted to take your mother to the new Loompa Colony on Praxuun V, which later became New Loompaland, I was just about mad enough to rip out his entrails and skip rope with them!" He sighed. "I settled for going with them, since my wife...your grandmother...had passed away already. And I suppose it's just as well." He let his voice trail off, his eyes searching the empty air for something that was not there. When he returned to the present, he smiled apologetically, pushing against the table to stand up.

"Well, that's enough story time for you two! Let me get these dishes out of the way. You two ought to get to bed; Lylia, you have that meeting tomorrow with Windsor, and Lonji can come with me to the factory for a tour."

Lonji perked up at the work "factory". Lylia scoffed, though she was smiling.

"Come on, Granddad; we're not kids anymore! We're both in our twenties now!"

"You'll always be kids to me!" their grandfather cried back.

Lonji only listened, a smile touching his lips. It had been a very confusing day, but for the first time, perhaps in his life, he felt happy.


	4. Chapter 4

Lonji opened his eyes, disoriented. He had dreamed of Wonka's Factory; the images had been blurry and unreal, but that was enough to confuse him when he woke up the next morning in a bed that he did not recognize as his own.

 _Will this dream never end?_

There was a soft rap on the door, and his grandfather poked his head in, grinning.

"Better get up, Lonji. Your sister's already gone for her conference, and you don't want to be late for the tour of the cocoa plant, do you?"

Lonji certainly did not. He pushed away his confused thoughts and made himself ready. Before long, he joined his grandfather outside on the landing pad. The older Loompa smiled at him, waving for him to stand at his side. Lonji noticed there were no transport pods in sight.

"The factory is ten minutes away by pod," his grandfather said, smiling slyly, "But we're not taking one today."

"Do you take a taxi or something, then?" Lonji asked, confused. His grandfather looked astonished.

"You honestly don't remember Doris? You used to ride with us, when you were little."

Lonji searched his memory, but found nothing. Maybe Doris was a friend.

"So, you have a carpool."

His grandfather shook his head. "Ah, maybe you ought to start taking your meds again, hmm? Yes, I know you've been avoiding them. No matter; this should refresh your memory."

He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. The noise was so sharp and loud that it made Lonji flinch, but he looked up in time to see a large flying creature emerge from the trees. Lonji assumed it was a bird, but as it came closer he could see that it was not; its body, though covered in dark green feathers, was reptilian. It had the beak of a bird, but its eyes were dark and intelligent, like that of a serpent. It flew by beating its long-feathered forelegs like wings, using its tail and hind legs to balance. It landed right in front of Lonji and his grandfather, and only then was he able to see how massive it was; three times his height and probably four times his weight, this beast could probably eat him as a snack if it wanted. He instinctively stepped back. "What is THAT?"

His grandfather gave him a wry look. "That's Doris. She's a Pteryx, a native species on Praxuun." He reached up, and Doris bent down so that he could scratch her head while she crooned.

"See? She's a sweetheart; no need to worry. Now come along; you haven't lived 'til you've flown a Pteryx."

Lonji wasn't so sure about that, but he forced himself to climb aboard the beast's back, following his grandfather's instructions.

"That's right, Lonji; hold her spine ridge there, and make sure you squeeze your knees against her sides. You can hold onto me for support, but I can't hold you. I've got to tell Doris where to fly. Are you ready?"

Lonji wanted to say no, but he didn't get the chance to say anything; his grandfather said something to Doris, and she leapt off the platform and into the air. Lonji could hardly breathe as the Pteryx rose higher into the sky, the air rushing past them like a ferocious wind. But after a minute or two, he adjusted and began to see why his grandfather enjoyed flying like this, rather than stuffed in a pod. He could see everything; the infinite jungles below, the blue sky above, and dozens of transport pods and winged creatures in between. There was also the thrill of speed; he had hardly felt movement or acceleration in the pod, but now he was feeling the rising and falling, every bank and turn that the Pteryx made. It was...intimate, and Lonji felt a pang of jealousy of the closeness between his grandfather and his mount.

 _I wonder if I could get one of my own…_

 _J_ ust as Lonji was beginning to enjoy himself, the ride was over; Doris began descending in large circles, finally coming to land on a large, asphalt parking lot. She knelt, letting Lonji and his grandfather slide to the ground. She chirped, nuzzling Lonji's grandfather, then flung herself into the air. In moments she was gone.

"How will she know when to come back?" Lonji asked.

"Pteryx have good sense of hearing," his grandfather said. "Though Doris usually stays close to wherever I am, she can hear me whistle up to three miles away."

"I wish I had a Pteryx," Lonji said wistfully. His grandfather gave him a knowing look.

"Many people wish they do, after flying one. But no one sells them because they're normally wild. Usually they cannot be caught, unless they want to be."

"Then how did you get Doris?"

"I found her as a chick," His grandfather said as he started to walk toward a concrete building. "She was injured, and didn't really have any choice but to let me help her. She was only about as big as a pigeon back then." He smiled at the memory. "I didn't realize how big she was going to get; she just kept growing. But when I finally decided she was well enough to return to the jungle, she kept coming back; I suppose she became attached to me. They say that Pteryx do that; they imprint, or something, on a person that cares for them. I know the Sky Patrol does that during their training."

Lonji looked up hopefully. "What's Sky Patrol?"

His grandfather snorted, though he murmured in concern. "You really do have amnesia, don't you?" He cleared his throat. "The military of New Loompaland is comprised of three divisions: Ground Patrol, Center Control, and Sky Patrol. Ground Patrol fights crime and vicious beasts from the ground up to the canopy; Center Patrol focuses on city issues, and Sky Patrol protects the airspace as well as Praxuun's upper atmosphere."

"I don't suppose there's any chance of me getting in," Lonji said, dejected.

His grandfather shook his head.

"Not with your memory problems, at least."


	5. Chapter 5

When they reached the building, Lonji realized that it was actually the topmost portion of a larger structure. His grandfather produced a keycard and swiped it; a door slid open, and both Loompas stepped in. They now stood in a glass elevator, which Lonji noticed with surprise. "Why is it all glass?" He dared to ask. His grandfather pressed a button marked TOUR, then laid a hand on his grandson's shoulder, his voice suddenly serious.

"I could never say this in front of your sister, but you probably know the answer to that question better than anyone." He paused as the elevator whirred, dropped for a few moments, then shot to the side. Lonji had a funny feeling in his stomach, but it wasn't from the movement.

"All those thoughts and ideas of yours that your sister and the psychiatrist call delusions are spot-on descriptions of how Wonka's Factory operated in the old days. I don't know how you did it, or why it started happening after your accident with the KNIDs. Maybe the intense fear triggered a dormant memory in your genes, or maybe you came into contact with something that linked you to the past; I don't know. But whatever the case may be...your memories are real; don't forget that." He squeezed Lonji's shoulder comfortingly, as they approached the first room.

"A lot of things will seem familiar to you," his grandfather said, "much like this elevator. This room, for example, was created based on the Wonka Corporation's very own Chocolate Room."

And indeed it was. Lonji looked down in awe, as he looked over an exact replica of the Chocolate room from Wonka's factory. From home. His grandfather continued as the elevator skimmed across its rails to the next room.

"Once Loompakind was able to reproduce naturally, and were freed from mandatory subservience, the Wonka Corporation allowed Oompa-loompas to choose what they wanted to do: to stay with the company, or to find their own destiny in the stars. Some stayed. Some left. But those who did go never truly forgot what Wonka had done for them, and they honor his memory by incorporating his designs into their new industries."

The elevator popped out into a new room, this one quite different than anything Lonji had seen in his memories from Wonka's Factory. This was a huge, indoor cocoa plantation; the skinny trees reached up high toward a semi-transparent roof, dozens of cocoa-bean pods growing from their bark. Robotic harvesters collected the ripe pods, while Oompa-loompas in white jumpsuits inspected the trees from below.

"Your mom helped design those harvesters," Lonji's grandfather said proudly, though he was obviously choking back tears. "Even though she's gone, her work lives on."

Lonji patted him on the shoulder to comfort him, partly worried that his lack of emotion would betray him. How could he mourn someone he could not remember? He had no idea. But the action was enough to console his grandfather, and the older man perked up as the elevator shot into another room. This one was smaller than the others, but was still as large as a warehouse. Lit by skylights and suspended fluorescents, it reminded Lonji distantly of a company storehouse on Mars, where he had visited a few weeks before...all this. He shook his head, struggling to focus on what he could see: dozens of Oompa-loompas in grey uniforms were processing the newly harvested cocoa pods, feeding them into machines that extracted, cleaned, and roasted the beans. The product was packed in vacuum-sealed containers and stored in crates to await exportation.

"See those crates?" Lonji's grandfather said, pointing to the tall stacks in the back. "They're shipped all over Loompaland to chocolate factories and restaurant chains. Some are even sent out to nearby starports. But a few," he said, pointing to a row of crates that had been marked in green, "stay here to be used in the factory's own chocolate production."

"That's impressive," Lonji said honestly. "I didn't think they had the space to do all that."

"You saw the Chocolate Room replica," his grandfather replied. "They have to supply the chocolate river somehow, and in turn the chocolate needs to be used for something. So far, it's only been used to make chocolate marinara...that sauce that we had for dinner last night."

Lonji licked his lips as he thought about it. On top of the carrots and meat, the sauce had been delicious. But on its own, he didn't think it would be very good.

"Have they tried making candy bars with it?"

His grandfather shrugged. "Who knows? If they have, it must not have been very good. I haven't seen any in the stores."

The elevator abruptly lurched upwards, and he stifled a curse. "What's going on? This isn't part of the tour!"

"How do you know?" Lonji asked, pressing his hands against the glass.

"Because I gave your sister a tour; all factory employees are allowed to on their days off! The elevator takes them along a preprogrammed route through four different rooms, then returns them to the parking lot. This didn't happen before!"

"Maybe there's an emergency stop button," Lonji said hopefully. He scanned the rows of buttons, surprised to see one already lit. It read MANAGEMENT.

"Granddad," he said, his voice ominous, "What's up in Management?"

His grandfather paled, though he looked confused as well.

"I've never been up there before. That's where the executives work, alongside Administration. Your sister was supposed to go there today; she had an interview with the CEO, Windsor." He swallowed, forcing a smile. "Maybe she knew we were here and decided to call us up."

Lonji hoped that was true. But he couldn't help noticing a camera lens glinting from a corner of the elevator.


	6. Chapter 6

The elevator continued to rise, passing through offices, conference halls, lounges, then everything went dark as it passed through a narrow shaft. The only light that shone was the lit button, and Lonji couldn't help feeling that this part of the ride had been designed to be foreboding. Finally the elevator stopped, and an outer door slid open, letting light into the elevator. Lonji's instincts screamed at him to leap out as soon as the elevator's doors opened, but he forced himself to walk out calmly, followed by his grandfather.

He looked at his surroundings, and then he had to look again, rubbing his eyes to make sure that he was still awake. The room looked like an office...Wonka's office. Aside from all the furniture and appliances being scaled down to Oompa-loompa size, everything was the same: from the carpet color to the windows and the furniture arrangement and the picture placement on the wall. There were even drawings that had been done by Wonka's adopted daughter Melissa, but they were printed on canvas, like someone had turned her sketches into great works of art. The sight bewildered Lonji, but the Oompa-loompa that sat behind the desk bewildered him even more.

"Ah, you must be Lonji, Lylia's brother," he said, leaning back in his chair. "And you must be their grandfather, Matus." He stood up and shook their hands.

"Pleasure to meet you in person! I've heard so much about you both!"

Lonji and his grandfather were equally baffled by the man that stood before them, as if they could not quite believe that an Oompa-loompa could ever have the face of Willy Wonka. But he did. Though his skin was the same dark shade as the average Oompa-loompa, and was scaled down to a smaller size, this man's face looked just like the Willy Wonka that Lonji's grandfather had seen in pictures, and the one that Lonji had seen in his memories. The man even dressed like him, though he was lacking the trademark top hat, perhaps due to copyright issues. He noticed their confusion and smiled brightly.

"Ah, you must be wondering who I am," he said, his voice light and airy. "Wellan Windsor, at your service." He gave a slight bow. "Matus, you work for me...in the inspection department, right?"

It took a moment for the old man to find his tongue.

"Uh, yes...yes sir!"

Windsor smiled, walking around his desk to stand beside him. "I make it a habit of mine to get to know each and every one of my employees. Speaking of which, I met with your granddaughter today. Lovely young woman. She'll make a very good accountant for this company."

Lonji's grandfather gasped, then laughed. "Oh, thank you for taking her, sir! Accounting is a good job, isn't it?"

"One of the best," Windsor said. Lonji thought he saw the man's eyes flash darkly, but he didn't have time to consider it because the eyes turned to him.

"You. You're Lonji, correct?"

Lonji tried to make his tongue work, but those eyes seemed to look straight into his soul. He managed to nod. Then that paralyzing gaze dissipated as Windsor smiled, clasping Lonji's hand in a warm shake.

"Good to meet you, sonny! Your sister talks about you quite a bit! Seems you have some memory issues, I hear."

Lonji reddened a shade, but he had no reason to lie. "That's right, sir."

"Well, there's nothing to worry about if you can remember what's important. Do you remember what you saw in my factory before I interrupted your tour?"

"Yes, sir."

Windsor beamed. "See? So what if you can't remember historical details about Loompaland, or silly technology, or political structure? That's not important. But my factory...my passion, is." He brightened, like an idea had ballooned in his mind.

"Maybe if you found your passion, you could remember things better. Did you like the factory, Lonji?"

Again, Lonji nodded, not sure what this man was up to.

"Wonderful," Windsor said. Then I'd like for you to come work for me in my factory. If you like it enough, not only will it help you improve your memory problem, but you will have a stable job as well."

Lonji was shocked, as was his grandfather. The older man shook his head.

"Just like that? No interview?"

Windsor's face became serious. "Consider this the interview, which you passed. Remember, I care about my employees. I also care about their families. And I am certain, Matus, that I will find the perfect place for my new friend Lonji."

Lonji felt a floating sensation in his chest. Was it...excitement? No, that wasn't right! He was from Wonka's factory, dammit! He mentally quashed the emotion, wishing he had a good dose of Serum to calm him down.

 _The memories are real,_ he reminded himself. If that was true, then his loyalties should remain with the Fuhrer. What would his coworkers think if he woke up from this dream and said he was working for Windsor, not Wonka? And what about the WSP? He didn't want to think about it.

"Lonji?"

He snapped back to the present, realizing that Windsor had just asked him something.

"Um, sorry...what was that?"

"I wanted to know if you had any questions before I sent you on your way. I want you fully rested before your orientation tomorrow; I will be conducting it personally."

Lonji nodded. There was only one question he could think of, though he felt embarrassed when he asked it.

"How do you have Wonka's face?"

Windsor laughed, the flutey tone of it unusual for an Oompa-loompa.

"Plastic surgery. It's good, isn't it? Cost me a fortune, but one can afford anything when he is wealthy. As the owner and head of a cocoa factory, I thought the best way to pay tribute to the greatest chocolatier in history was to share his face. Of course, it tends to frighten the diplomats from the Galactic Core, but I do my best to exemplify a kind and generous attitude like Mr. Wonka did." He looked at Lonji and Matus, who both seemed to be digesting the story. He grinned when they finally nodded.

"Well, I suppose it's best you both be going, then. The elevator will take you directly to the parking lot. I expect to see you bright and early, Lonji!"

"Yes, sir," Lonji said, struggling to balance his emotions. And Windsor noticed.


	7. Chapter 7

As they had promised, Lonji and his grandfather arrived at the factory early in the morning, the first of the twin suns just creeping over the horizon. Lylia had taken them in the pod, and because her shift didn't begin until noon, she went back home to get more sleep. Lonji was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt that he didn't remember owning. His grandfather wore his white uniform and carried his bag of equipment. They both went into the elevator and Matus pushed the button for the PLANTATION room. The elevator leapt forward, and they were off. Lonji felt anxious. He had slept fitfully last night, and his dreams were even vaguer than before. Though his memories of Wonka's factory were crisp in his mind, the faces of his coworkers had been all wrong; they should have been uniform, like his, but they were as varied as the people here in New Loompaland. Even Wonka and Melissa had looked like Oompa-loompas, and OS-22...well, looked like his grandfather. It was as if the more time he spent here, and the more involved he was, the less real his memories became. _They were being replaced._

The thought scared him, and he started wringing his hands, trying to calm himself down.

"Lonji," his grandfather said, patting his shoulder, "There's no need to be anxious. Mr. Windsor is a wonderful man, a genius, even! He turned this cocoa plant into an intergalactic success, yet he still does his best to help all his workers. And you...he hired you right on the spot, _and_ he will be conducting your orientation himself! You should be honored!"

Lonji laughed in his head, wishing his grandfather knew the real reason he was worried.

"I _am_ honored, Granddad. I just...hope he'll like me."

"He will," Matus said, as the elevator came to a stop and opened. He gave Lonji's shoulder a final pat, then went out into the workroom. Now alone, Lonji drew in a deep breath, calming himself before he pressed the MANAGEMENT button. It lit up at his touch, and the elevator shot off like a bullet. It brought a smile to Lonji's face as he staggered to his feet, reminding him of the unpredictable nature of the elevator at Wonka's factory. He was surprised he could miss such a mundane thing as an elevator, and he promised himself that he would take nothing for granted if he could ever get back to Wonka's factory again.

The elevator stopped, and Lonji stepped out into Windsor's office. The man himself was standing behind his desk, muttering about some files in his hands. He looked up suddenly when Lonji came in, smiling like a kid who got caught doing something wrong. Lonji was too worried to notice, and the CEO recovered a normal smile. He set the files on his desk, beckoning for Lonji to come sit on the purple velvet divan that Lonji remembered in his memories. Wonka liked to sit there when he had personal talks with his employees, because he said the desk was too imposing. When they were both sitting, Windsor turned so that he was facing Lonji, his legs crossed.

"So, do you remember what we talked about yesterday?"

"Yes, sir. We talked about finding a job for me in your factory."

Windsor laughed. "See? Your memory is improving already!" His smile straightened. "But I didn't say explicitly that you would be working in my factory."

"But...then where would I work, and whom would I work for?"

"You'd be working for me, of course!" Windsor leapt up from the couch, his excitement forcing him to stand.

"As you may have gathered, I am a wealthy man. Having a cocoa business on a planet inhabited by Oompa-loompas tends to make one rich. But it is not the only business I own, and I am always looking for devoted workers to fill positions for me."

"What kind of positions?" Lonji said warily.

Windsor paused to look at him, scoffing. "Nothing kinky, if that's what you're thinking. I don't care for that sort of thing. I was actually thinking of something along the lines of flavor scouting."

Lonji raised a brow. "What does that mean?"

Windsor gestured toward the great bay windows on one side of his office, indicating the jungle below.

"Down there, and all over this planet, are exotic plants that produce different fruits of varying flavors. Yet my factory has not been able to collect and grow any yet. That is the main reason this is a cocoa factory rather than a full-blown candy factory. I have the resources to convert the plant, but I do not have the source for different flavors, besides chocolate. As a flavor scout, it would be your job to fly around the jungle and find fruits, herbs, and other flavorful compounds, and bring enough back to the factory for us to grow or synthesize ourselves. Does that sound like it would interest you?"

"Of course, sir!" Lonji said, forgetting to check his enthusiasm. "But…how would I find any of that in a transport pod? They're not exactly made for sightseeing."

Windsor smiled mysteriously. "Who said anything about sending you in a pod?" He rose from the couch and strode to the elevator. "Come with me."


	8. Chapter 8

As the elevator sped toward some room called STORAGE, Windsor pointed out some of his favorite parts of his factory.

"There goes the nursery! We raise all new seedlings to saplings, inoculating them against disease before planting them with the fully grown trees. And here you can see our massive Research and Development area…there are currently twenty scientists on staff. Most of them are botanists and geneticists; they oversee the growth of new and better cocoa trees. I also have an entomologist who makes sure there are ways to control the native population of insect pests. Your mother—" he broke off suddenly, as if he realized what he was saying. Lonji wanted him to finish the statement, but Windsor changed the subject.

"I understand that you enjoy flying Pteryx," he said casually, glancing outside the elevator as it sped through a brightly lit tunnel. Lonji tensed. "When did you hear that?"

Windsor shrugged. "It's no secret that your grandfather has one, and I could tell by the light in your eyes yesterday morning that you rode to the factory on it. There is nothing like it…or so I'm told." He smoothed a wrinkle on his jacket sleeve, gauging Lonji's uncertain expression until the elevator slowed to a halt. The door opened, and Windsor led the way out into another room that was like a warehouse. It was filled with tall stacks of wooden crates, some new, their paint fresh, others cracked and marked with peeling labels. There was also a sound; Lonji didn't recognize it, and the only thing he could compare it to was the shrieking of a KNID. He shuddered at the thought. _Did Windsor have those beasts in here?_

The CEO noticed Lonji's discomfort and tried to comfort him with an assuring smile.

"Nothing to worry about," he promised. "It's only my most recent…acquisition." They rounded a corner, and Lonji had to stop and stare. There was a large, Plexiglas container in the back, and it contained three fully-grown Pteryx, the source of the sound. They were scratching madly at the walls of their transparent prison, screeching with rage. They went silent when they noticed the pair of Oompa-loompas, and they stared back with those intelligent, piercing eyes.

Windsor nudged Lonji. "So, what do you think? Are you willing to ride through the jungles on one of these beauties?"

Lonji's mouth was almost too dry for him to reply. "I don't know how."

Windsor's smile widened, though Lonji couldn't see it.

"Easy; you just pick one." He shoved Lonji forward, laughing when the other Loompa stumbled, falling to his knees before the cage. Lonji looked up at the beasts, glancing into their eyes. The first was grey-feathered and battle scarred, its eyes dark and piercing. The second was slightly smaller, black-feathered, and lithe. Its eyes were a calm green, and it seemed to be more curious than afraid. The third was green-feathered like Doris, but its eyes were filled with anger. It snarled as Lonji's gaze passed over it, and he averted his eyes. He looked back to Windsor, who gave him a nod of encouragement. "It's your choice," he said. "Just make sure it's a good one, because it will be for life.'

Lonji grimaced. _No pressure, then._ He turned around to face the cage again, and his gaze locked with the first Pteryx. An electric tingle shot up his spine as soon as their eyes met, and was about as surprised as the beast was. It straightened, pupils dilating, and gave a low trill, crouching in submission. Lonji turned back toward Windsor, relieved. "I guess it worked."

"I see you went with the older male," Windsor commented. "Good choice. Personally I would have taken the female, but I'm not you."

"How can you tell what gender they are?" Lonji asked.

"I can't," Windsor said, shrugging. "The man who gave them to me told me. Now, why don't you get acquainted with your new partner?"

Lonji was afraid he would have to get the Pteryx out of the cage on his own. He didn't know how the other two would respond. Then he noticed three men standing at the far side of the cage, dressed in grey uniforms. He didn't know if they had been standing there the whole time, or if they had only just got there. Windsor stepped over to them, saying something that Lonji didn't catch, and the three immediately went over to the other side of the cage where the gate was. One man carried something like an oversized leash, while the other two carried long metal rods. Cattle prods, Lonji realized. The thought sickened him, but he could understand why they needed the extra precaution. They opened the gate and stepped into the cage, the three beasts eyeing them warily. Lonji's Pteryx, however, looked straight at him and did not break his gaze, even when the attendants slid the leash over his neck. They guided him out of the cage, closing it when he was out, and he followed willingly. When he came to where Lonji stood, he pressed himself flat against the floor, crooning like Doris did, though in a deeper tone. Lonji stretched out his hand uncertainly, relaxing when he found that the creature enjoyed being stroked. Windsor watched from a slight distance, smiling anew.

"He'll need a name, now that you're both acquainted."

Lonji thought hard. His memories of Wonka's factory didn't lend him any ideas, since no Loompa there had a real name. He had to think of a name that would suit the personality that he had seen in the eyes of his mount; something strong. Something fast. Something ferocious, like a storm. There, he had it!

"He will be called Storm."

The next few days were a blur of excitement for Lonji as he learned how to ride his new mount. Though he was not yet ready to venture into the jungles, Windsor allowed him to fly to and from home to practice, much to the annoyance of his sister and the amusement of his grandfather. Storm was obviously a veteran flyer, the way he easily took the safety of his rider into account while flying made Lonji ever more confident, but this did not keep him from nearly falling off more than a few times. On one occasion, he slipped off while Storm banked a little too quickly, but the keen Pteryx somersaulted in the air and caught his rider with his hind claws, flying him to safety. Lonji's skill as a rider grew the more he flew, the realness of Wonka's factory was beginning to fade...


	9. Chapter 9

"My, how quickly a week goes by," Dr. Galyan said, seating himself in his customary chair. Lonji faced him, sitting on the couch. He was back with the psychiatrist for his weekly visit, but this time he was not confused. In spite of the events of the past few days, he felt fresh, lucid, and confident; a far cry from the last session he could remember. He smiled at Dr. Galyan. Funny how his face had been so unfamiliar that first week...so alien!

"So, Lonji, do you remember what we talked about last time?"

Lonji nodded, his smile widening. "I do remember, Dr. Galyan. In fact, I remember everything that happened between then and now. My sister, my grandfather, my employer, and my Pteryx...I don't know how I could have forgotten about any of that...especially about my parents." His smile faded, and a lump of deep remorse rose in his throat. Dr. Galyan looked at him curiously.

"Do you remember what happened? Did you see it happen?"

Lonji shook his head. "I only know what my sister told me. They were killed by KNIDs."

Dr. Galyan settled back in his chair, his expression unreadable as always.

"Sometimes the mind locks out certain memories to protect itself," he said, setting his notebook aside. He clasped his hands together on his lap. "What you witnessed with your parents was probably too horrible for you to comprehend. Why you created the fantasy of Wonka's factory to console you."

Lonji's face hardened. Though his connection to the factory had been all but severed, he still believed in it. "It is not a fantasy. If it was, then how come I remember every detail from there as well as what I learned from here?"

Dr. Galyan's eyes darkened, but only for a moment. "Are you insinuating that this world is not real? That your grandfather and your sister are not real?"

"No. They are real. You are real. But what if that world, what you call a fantasy, is real as well?"

"A simple test could determine that," Dr. Galyan said, retrieving his notepad. "If you could you recite the ingredients for a Wonka chocolate bar, I will believe you. It is said that every employee of the Wonka factory knows the recipe by heart."

Lonji froze, chilled by a sudden wave of suspicion. "Why would you want to know that?"

"I don't care about the recipe in particular," Galyan replied smoothly. "It's just a test to see if you truly were an employee of the Wonka factory. It's _you_ I care about, Lonji. I am concerned that your connection to this fantasy of yours could be detrimental to your health. You may have to be institutionalized if I cannot be convinced that your delusions are really the truth."

Lonji's fear deepened. "Tell me what you know about Wonka's factory and his workers," he said, trying to buy time. "I need to know that you are familiar with it before I can divulge that kind of information."

Dr. Galyan sniffed, amused. "A test for a test. Fair enough." His gaze became thoughtful. "I know that Mr. Charles Wonka did indeed rule the candymaking industry throughout the Galaxy in the mid 2000's. He had millions of Oompa-loompa workers. All men. All clones. They had various occupations: soldiers and secretaries and scientists and pilots and engineers. But all those who worked in the factory, they knew Wonka's recipes intimately, as if it was a part of their own DNA. And we know that part lives on through their descendants, who enter candymaking and food industries with such aplomb; it's almost as if the factory never left us, though we left it." He focused back on Lonji. "Which is why I need to know, specifically, the ingredients of Wonka chocolate. Any one of the billions of Oompa-loompas on this planet can have dreams of the factory; it's a fact of our genetic memory. But if you indeed worked there, you would remember with firsthand experience, a crispness that no one else would have." He paused, smoothing back his hair.

"So what's it going to be?"

Lonji struggled to breathe evenly, panic nearly overwhelming him. There was something suspicious about all this. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew he would have to act. Fast.

"If you know so much about Wonka and his workers," he said slowly, "then you should know that we are unable to speak of his secrets to anyone outside the company. I couldn't tell my sister, even if I wanted."

"Then it is as I feared." Dr. Galyan closed his notebook and looked at Lonji, his eyes genuinely apologetic. "I have no choice but to order your institutionalization."

"But I'm not a danger to anyone!" Lonji protested, standing up. "I'm a good person!"

"Is that what your sister told you?" Galyan growled, his voice suddenly harsh. "She lied. Like she lied when she said that your parents died in a KNID attack. YOU killed them, Lonji. You."

Lonji fell back on the couch, horrified. "How do you know?"

"Ground Patrol reported that they found you on the ground, crouching over your dead parents. You were covered in their blood, but you were unharmed. And we all know that KNIDs have been extinct in this sector for a hundred years, so when you said KNIDs did it, we all knew it was a boldfaced lie. But then you were afflicted with amnesia. You couldn't be sent to prison for a crime you couldn't remember, and your sister hoped that with your memory gone, you could start a new life. So Central let you go home, provided you visit a psychiatrist once a week to ensure you were not a threat to public safety. But I'm afraid that the way you coped with your murder spree...fantasizing about a mythical factory...is only a sign that you were subconsciously pleased with your actions. It is only a matter of time before you feel the need to kill again."

Dr. Galyan straightened his collar, and it was only then that Lonji noticed the lapel mike that had been concealed there. _Someone had been listening this whole time!?_ Lonji didn't have time to think about it; Rogin burst through the door with two other orderlies, straightjacket in hand. Despite his terror, Lonji put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, causing everyone to flinch. During that split second of hesitation, the window shattered inward and Storm's head poked through. Lonji leapt off the couch and dove through the window, barely escaping the clutches of Rogin. The orderly cursed as he watched Lonji fly away on Storm. He allowed himself a chuckle.

"Good luck to you." He leaned against the window sill, careful to avoid the broken glass. Dr. Galyan came up beside him.

"This isn't funny, Rogin. This is serious. You know our employer won't be happy."

"The window is easy enough to repair, sir. The Boss won't mind that."

"Not the window, you idiot. The patient. We may never know his secrets now."


	10. Chapter 10

Lonji wasn't sure where he could go. Especially not if what the psychiatrist had said about him was true. Had he really killed his own parents? Why? He searched his thoughts but came up with nothing. So why did his chest feel like it was torn in pieces? _Is this what guilt feels like?_ He thought about his sister and his grandfather, being so cheerful around him, encouraging him, picking him up when he stumbled, making him dinner. Had all that been a lie, forced? He wondered if their smiles had been real, or if it had all been a facade to appease him. If the glimmer of happiness in their eyes had really been a flicker of fear. He began to doubt even the validity of his memories of Wonka's factory. What if they had been a lie, too? Unable to control his frustration any longer, he roared into the wind, spurring Storm to fly faster, as if the mount could sense his rider's agitation. They soon arrived home, but it was clear something was wrong. As Storm circled over the landing pad, Lonji could see that the garden had been trampled, like there had been a struggle, and the door to the house was broken, hanging by a hinge. He leapt off of Storm and ran for the house, not caring when the door broke off in his hands. He threw it aside and raced through the rooms, calling for his sister and grandfather. The first room was a mess; his grandfather's collection of old tech had been haphazardly scattered across the floor, and furniture had been turned over. The dining room and kitchen were no better; broken plates and silverware littered the ground, and Lonji was horrified to see spots of red trailing through the hallway and up the stairs. He followed them, dreading what he would see at the end of the trail. Then, in one of the upstairs bedrooms, he peeked his head into the doorway and saw. His grandfather was lying in a puddle of blood, eyes closed, his clothes soaked in red. He was clutching a kitchen knife, covered in blood that was likely not his own. Lonji dropped to his knees, tears falling unimpeded. _Who would do this to such a kind man?_ Lonji realized then that he had genuinely cared for his grandfather. It didn't matter if he had been afraid of Lonji, or if Lonji was in fact a cold blooded killer; Lonji had loved him. And now he was dead.

Lonji could have sat there for hours, mourning. But if his sister was still alive, she would need him to be strong and help her for once. He forced himself to stand, looking at his grandfather for one last time. Then he left and closed the door. He checked the rest of the house and found no trace of his sister, aside from her purse. He knew she never left the house without her purse, so she had probably been taken against her will. Their grandfather had probably been killed trying to protect her. As to who would take her, Lonji had no clue. He was no detective, and he certainly hadn't been trained to be one. With nothing to go off of, he ran outside, thinking Storm could pick up a trail or something. He ran up to the landing pad and saw that the "or something" was chittering with Storm. Doris. Lonji had all but forgotten her; she looked ragged and weary; her feathers were torn in some places, and her eyes were dilated with sadness, fully aware that her rider was dead. Storm appeared to be consoling her. They both straightened as Lonji came to them, head feathers perking up hopefully.

"Doris," Lonji said, "Did you see who took my sister, and...killed Granddad?"

Doris mewled woefully in affirmation.

"Can you take us to them? We need to fight this."

Doris shook off her sorrow and shrieked, her amber eyes blazing with fury as she leapt into the air. Lonji jumped onto Storm's back and they were off, climbing high into the air. Storm managed to keep up with Doris, but just barely; the enraged Pteryx was fueled by anger, and it seemed like she was eager to sink her talons into the men who killed her master. Lonji got a sinking feeling when he recognized the path she was taking them on. He told himself he was just being silly, that Doris was taking this route because she was familiar with it and would veer off at any moment. But as a familiar building loomed nearer in the distance, Lonji could deny the fact no more. Windsor's factory.


	11. Chapter 11

Doris circled over the parking lot but did not land; there were several Oompa-loompas down there, looking up as Lonji and Storm came down and landed gracefully. Lonji slid off Storm's back, standing to face the men who were waiting for them. He only recognized one. Windsor.

He looked into the man's eyes with a glare as hard as steel. "Sir, what the hell is going on?"

Windsor opened his arms, palms upward.

"I don't have any idea what you mean, Lonji! I was just watching you practice your flying. Your landing was beautiful, I must say."

Lonji's expression did not change. "My house was ransacked. My sister is gone. My grandfather was murdered. Doris knew where the attackers went. She led us here."

Windsor's smile evaporated, and his face adopted a harshness that chilled Lonji to the core.

"Fine. You got me. I did it...well...we did it." he indicated the men with him, all of them muscular and clad in black.

"We took your sister, killed your grandfather when he got in the way, and Doris, well. She wasn't supposed to survive. Let's not make that mistake again." He nodded to one of the nameless men, who pulled out a long rifle and aimed skyward. "NO!" Lonji leapt forward, but it was too late; there was an explosion, a surprised screech from Doris, and her limp body plummeted through the canopy to the ground far below. Lonji turned around and roared at Storm. "Fly, you fool!"

The gunman took aim, but only managed to graze the Pteryx's shoulder. He screeched in pain, then disappeared into the jungle. Lonji turned to Windsor, his face contorted in rage. "You didn't have to kill her. Or Granddad."

"They got in the way," Windsor said simply. "Now, shall we go to my office?"

After a tense elevator ride packed in between Windsor's musclemen, Lonji found himself sitting in scrutiny for the second time today, but this time the circumstances were far more dire. He was sitting in a chair in front of Windsor's desk, hands tied behind him, of course. He glared across the desk, willing Windsor to feel the scorching heat of his hatred.

"Why have you done this? Where is my sister?"

Windsor examined his nails, oblivious to Lonji's rage. He grinned. "I did it because I can. I'm wealthy, remember? I can buy whatever I want. Factories, houses, and oh, I don't know... psychiatric clinics and military forces?"

Lonji's eyes widened.

"I can see you're thinking through it," Windsor continued. "Yes, yes! You've got it now; I can see it in your eyes. "There are very few people in the region who do not work for me, even if they are unaware of it. I own the clinic that you visit every week. I own the locksmith company that installed your house doors and windows. I even own parts of Sky Patrol. How else do you think I could obtain unimpressed Pteryx?" He paused.

"And I can tell that you are wondering what this has to do with you. How selfish. Of you, I mean. People die, but human nature dictates that we as individuals ask, 'why me?' Well, I can tell you that it wasn't about you; it was your parents. The pilot and the engineer. They used to work for me, you know. But they always had a problem with my code of ethics. Or rather, my lack of one." He laughed, and Lonji struggled not to cringe at the sound.

"So I had them murdered. When you were walking with them on the ground, I had a couple of Ground Patrol officers unleash a little...pet of mine."

"KNID," Lonji whispered, his mouth dry.

"Yes, a KNID." Windsor's smile became fierce. "No one would believe the story that a KNID killed anyone. That made you, unfortunately, a patsy. I actually intended to kill you as well, but I suppose the KNID only had a stomach big enough for two Oompa-loompas. It was just a baby." He waved a hand, dismissing the thought. "When the Court decided you were to remain free, but be supervised by a psychiatrist, I bought out that clinic and installed Dr. Galyan as my informant, to alert me in case your amnesia showed signs of letting up. Which, it did, apparently."

"But why capture me now? Lonji rasped. "Why not just kill me? Why kidnap Lylia and kill Granddad?"

Windsor's smile flattened. "Your grandfather merely got in the way. I truly did value him as an employee. As for your sister, I needed leverage. Against you. After you developed amnesia, Dr. Galyan reported to me that you started having dreams or delusions about Wonka's factory. I became intrigued. Naturally, when you're descriptions turned out to be spot-on with some ancient records, my curiosity deepened. Did you truly work in Wonka's factory, Lonji? Perhaps in a vision, or another life?"

Lonji thought it was a rhetorical question, but he answered anyway.

"Yes."

Windsor walked around the desk so that he was standing behind Lonji's chair. He leaned his head on Lonji's shoulder.

"Then you can tell me. What are the secret ingredients to Wonka's chocolate bar?"

Lonji swallowed, angry and relieved at once. He hadn't killed his parents. But Windsor did. And if he couldn't get out of this, he would die at Windsor's hands, as would his sister. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, murmuring to himself.

"Fuhrer forgive me."

Windsor looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"I hope you have a pen or something. It's a rather long list."

"Just say it already!"

Lonji bit back a growl when he saw the musclemen twitch from the corner of his eye. "Fine. You'll need milk, sugar, cocoa beans, of course. Salt, Lecithin, emulsifier, soy, vanilla extract, cream, and..." he paused. "KNID blood."

Windsor stopped writing. "Wonka wouldn't use that, would he? You're lying!"

Lonji scowled. "Of course I am, asshole! You murdered my grandfather, and you'll probably kill me and my sister anyway, whether I tell you the secret ingredients or not! All I've told you are the things you can read on the wrapper!"

Windsor smacked him hard across the face, and Lonji tasted blood.

"You think you'll get off that easily?" Windsor said the words quietly, like a purr. "I'm going to make you both suffer so much and for so long, that you'll be begging to die. But before we begin that unpleasantness, I'll offer you one more chance, to show you I'm not an unreasonable man. What are the ingredients to a Wonka chocolate bar?"

Lonji spat to the side, not surprised by the flash of pain from his lip. "Let me see my sister."

Windsor appeared to debate with himself before nodding to one of the musclemen, who left the room. Moments later, he came back, dragging a struggling but still living Lylia. Her clothes were torn, her hair tangled and mussed, but her face was livid with rage, still full of fight. The muscleman dumped her ungraciously on the floor beside Lonji, and he looked down at her, relieved that she was still alive. She tried to say something, but her mouth was gagged. Lonji tried to comfort her with his eyes, but Windsor grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look into Windsor's paralyzing gaze. This time around, the magic was gone. Lonji saw only ice-cold deception, greed, jealousy. A strange calm settled over him, one of determination rather than resignation. He smiled at Windsor. The other man frowned, taken aback.

"You tried to win me over, Windsor. First with your kindness, and then with your hatred. You've been ruling my life since before I could remember. You've killed or harmed everyone I love. But I've got to tell you...you're worse off than I am."

Windsor clenched his jaw. "I happen to be a very wealthy man."

"But you are so very alone," Lonji countered. You try to make up for it by caring for your employees, but it's not the same, is it? You want what they have. Mr. Wonka even had it: a family. Something you could never have, eh? And probably why you never flew Pteryx. You were too cold-hearted to impress one."

Windsor silenced him with a slap across his other cheek, so hard that the chair tipped over, dumping him to the floor beside his sister. Windsor stood over them, his eyes dark with hatred.

"I don't really need the secret ingredients, you know. I'm perfectly happy owning a cocoa plant; much more cost effective than a full-blown chocolate factory. It was just a reason to keep you alive, to make you suffer. But I change my mind; I want you dead."


	12. Chapter 12

Windsor motioned to the musclemen, who reached for their guns. Suddenly the great bay window shattered into a million pieces, and Storm charged in, followed by several other Pteryx. The musclemen fired, and even Windsor produced a gun from somewhere to join in the melee, but the beasts were merciless; talons and fangs ripped into Loompa flesh, and blood and gore spattered the walls and furniture. Lonji lay there in shock, but only for a moment; Storm came over and bit through his bindings, and Lonji freed his sister. When the gag came free, she hugged him, no longer able to hold back her tears.

"They killed Granddad, Lonji. They made me watch him die."

Lonji was about to tell her that Windsor killed their parents, but a bullet ricocheted a foot from where they stood. They looked up to see Windsor and new security personnel streaming into the room behind him. Lonji grabbed his sister by the hand and pulled her up onto Storm.

"We need to fly!"

Lylia looked terrified, but she was more afraid of the alternative; Windsor bellowed an order, and bullets whizzed through the air. Storm sprinted for the broken window, barreling through the crowd of fighting Pteryx. He careened through the window, and with nowhere else to go, aimed for the horizon. Once they were out of sight of Windsor's factory, Lonji allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. "We made it, Lylia." he patted her hand, shocked to find that it was limp. He turned around in his seat to face her, and his joy was overcome with grief. Lylia had been hit in the chest, below the sternum. No doubt it had pierced a lung and shocked the heart. It was amazing she wasn't dead yet, but she only had a few moments left.

"Lylia." Lonji choked as he held onto her, straining to maintain his balance on Storm.

"Don't die. You're the only one left."

Lylia's eyes fluttered open for a second, and she smiled, pretty even though she was in pain. "Oh, little brother. Mom and Dad would be so proud..." The last word stole her breath, and the life left her. Lonji held onto her, wishing he could roar in anger, but so choked up that he could not. Storm must have felt the subtle shift in weight that happens when life leaves a body; he automatically began to descend, heading for a mat of tangled branches and vines that formed a natural landing pad. He touched down and crouched, waiting patiently for Lonji to slide off with Lylia.

Lonji cradled his sister, unaware of the distant voices calling out to him. He thought about when he first saw her, or remembered seeing her. So pretty. So confident. Now she was dead. So was Granddad. So were his parents. Was there anyone else in his life left to be cruelly ripped away from him? He hugged her tightly one last time, then lay her on the floor, stepping back. Storm nudged him, crooning in sympathy.

"Where can we go now?" Lonji murmured. He sank to the floor, ready to give up.

"Hey, buddy!"

The voice sounded close, too close to be from a neighboring platform. Lonji turned around, surprised to see an Oompa-loompa in power armor standing behind him. Storm snarled, but Lonji calmed him with a gesture.

"Are you part of Sky Patrol?"

The Loompa shook his head, putting his hands on either side of Lonji's face. "It's okay, buddy; we've got you. You can wake up now."

Lonji's eyes snapped open, his eyes unaccustomed to the dimness that followed. He was lying on a gurney that was being wheeled down a long corridor lit only by bluish auxiliary lighting. He began to struggle, but a hand pushed him down. "Don't worry," an Oompa-loompa in blue scrubs said assuringly, patting his arm with one hand while guiding the gurney with the other. "You're safe now."

Lonji wasn't so sure.

* * *

It was like déjà vu. The couch. The lampshades. The curtains. The older Oompa-loompa that sat in a chair, writing notes and asking obvious questions.

"What is your name?"

"Lonji."

"And where do you come from, Mr.…Lonji?"

"New Loompaland on Praxuun V."

"I see. And what year is it in this…New Loompaland?"

"3000. Must've been a big new year's celebration. I don't remember it, though."

"Intriguing. Do you remember how old you are?"

Lonji snorted impatiently. "I just turned 20 this year, though I don't remember that either. My sister says our grandfather made a big cake."

The other Oompa-loompa paused to scribble something on his notepad.

Lonji crossed his arms, wondering if this facility had a tough orderly like Rogin. He was unaware of the one way mirror that was disguised to look like a window, complete with olive drab curtains.

Behind it, the Chief Psychologist, OS-22, and Charlie Wonka himself watched the progression of the session. Wonka frowned, turning to OS-22.

"You said he was found aboard a Grobe ship?"

"Yes, my Fuhrer. She was heading for his facility. No doubt she was a data miner of some type; aside from advanced computer technology, she was equipped with the most sophisticated brainwashing equipment I've ever seen. Our techs say it works by subjecting the prisoner to a virtual reality, stripping them of their identity in the process. When they are sufficiently integrated into their imaginary world, the program attempts to extract data from their memories and dreams."

"Sounds like hell," Wonka muttered, the other two silently agreeing. "Can his memories be restored?"

The Psychologist spoke up, though his face was grim. "It is possible, my Fuhrer. We've done it before. For example, when the survivors from Grobe's factory returned, we were able to rehabilitate them with a seventy percent success rate."

"And the other thirty percent?"

The Psychologist frowned. "Institutionalized. Permanently."

Wonka put his hands together and flexed his fingers in consideration.

"Do what you must. I can't imagine what that poor guy was subjected to, but I want you to stop at nothing to restore him. I care about my employees."


	13. The Lost Chapters: 1

**Author's Note** : Due to surprisingly warm reception from readers, we decided that Lonji and his world deserved more adventures and screen time. That being said, someone found some lost notes and wrote about some adventures that Lonji had between the time of his flight training and his last fateful visit with Dr. Galyan. So it's not a sequel, but a midquel...that we're placing after the main story as sort of "bonus content" for both new readers and those who have read the original story before. Please enjoy these once-lost chapters and comment, if you like.

 **Thanks to** : Squirrela _and_ Turrislucidus _for your fabulous comments on the original story. We hope that you enjoy these additional adventures with our favorite Oompa-Loompa!_

* * *

A light rain was drizzling down from the slate-grey sky as Lonji got ready for work this morning. It was the first rain he had seen, or could remember seeing, and he hoped it wouldn't get any heavier. He was supposed to fly south today, toward a lake that Windsor had pointed out to him on a map the day before.

"Probably lots of useful vegetation over there," Windsor had said. "Though it is a bit further away than what you've flown before."

"I think I can handle it," Lonji had assured him. Over the past couple days, he had grown more confident in his flying skills, venturing further and further away from town to collect samples for Windsor. But now, as he pulled on his flight jacket and slung a saddle bag over his shoulder, he hoped that had been right.

When he was finished getting ready, he stepped down the stairs as quietly as he could manage, trying not to wake anyone up. To his surprise, his grandfather was already awake, waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. He hadn't dressed for work yet, still wearing his pyjamas, but it looked like there was something more pressing on his mind. He smiled wryly when he saw Lonji sneaking down the stairs, and embraced him when he was close enough.

"I see you're ready for another day of flavor scouting," his grandfather observed, looking him up and down.

"Of course," Lonji said, "but it's not like it's different than any other day. What's the matter, Granddad?"

His grandfather broke the embrace and held Lonji at arm's length, looking him in the eyes with a seriousness that Lonji hadn't seen before.

"You saw that it was raining this morning, right?"

"Yes, but it was pretty thin. It looked like it was stopping when I came down."

His grandfather sighed. "It is stopping...for now. But you should remember how unpredictable the weather can be at this time of year. It could be completely sunny, and a thunderstorm could come out of nowhere. There could be thin clouds, and suddenly it starts to hail. Most of the time, we have good weather. But this is monsoon season, Lonji. When it rains, it usually pours. These thin rains are just the beginning, the precursors of the monsoons. Our town doesn't have to worry about floods because all the rain flows down toward the lake, but the rains can get heavy enough to down a Pteryx. If you get caught out there..."

He trailed off, tears glistening at the corners of his eyes.

Lonji wasn't sure what to say. He was touched that his grandfather was worried about him, but at the same time he didn't want to disappoint his new employer, either. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around his grandfather in what he hoped was a comforting embrace.

"I'll be fine, Granddad. Storm and I will take it easy, and we'll land at the first sign of any heavy rains. But I have to go. I have a job to do."

"Of course you do," his grandfather said, his voice still tight with worry. "Just come back in one piece, all right?"

Lonji patted him on the back before turning towards the door.

"I will, Granddad. See you later."


	14. The Lost Chapters: 2

The rain had thinned to a sprinkle as Lonji walked through the garden to the wooden landing platform, where Storm was already waiting. The grey-feathered Pteryx trilled happily when he saw his rider, shaking his whole body and sending up a spray of water when Lonji was close enough to be drenched.

Fortunately Lonji's flight suit was more or less waterproof, so most of the water rolled off, but his face and hair were completely soaked.

"Thanks a lot, buddy. Great to see you, too."

Storm chortled in amusement, and he lowered himself so that Lonji could put the saddle and saddle bags on him. Although Lonji was comfortable with riding bareback, Windsor had insisted on the saddle and had it custom made for them.

After he was satisfied with the adjustments, Lonji slung himself into the saddle, donned a set of flight goggles, and called out to Storm, "Let's go!"

The Pteryx chittered excitedly and flung himself up and over the edge of the platform, gaining speed as he hurtled down toward the ground. After a couple heartbeats of freefall, he unfurled his wings and beat them hard, churning higher and higher through the air. Lonji laughed as he goaded his mount to fly faster, grinning in spite of the flecks of rain that stung his cheeks as they whipped past. Within minutes, they were hundreds of feet above the jungle canopy, the green foliage misty and muted by the falling rain.

Consulting the compass on his wrist, Lonji got his bearings and directed Storm to the South, which looked as indistinguishable as the rest of the jungle from this height. As Storm caught his breath and settled into a more steady flight mode, Lonji took a moment to appreciate the strangeness of flying in this different weather. The air felt colder and crisper. it was not enough to make him shiver, since he was wearing thermals under his flight suit, but it felt refreshing and clean. The moisture in the air was also bringing out all kinds of smells from the jungle - the musky scent of earth and loam, leaves and tree bark, mud and sap all mingled together in a way that just screamed life. And then there was the sound - or rather, the lack of it. It was quiet, muffled like the world was holding its breath. Perhaps if they were closer to the trees, he would be able to hear the whisper of the rain on the leaves, or hear birds flitting through the canopy, but from this height there was a stillness that was broken only by the rhythmic flapping of Storm's wings.

The quietness was just beginning to make him uncomfortable, until he looked ahead and saw a streak of silver slicing through the canopy. The lake! From this distance, it looked like a strip of the forest had been cut out and filled with a piece of the grey sky. But Lonji realized it was the reflection of the sky on the lake, and for a moment, a feeling of wonder eclipsed his apprehension.

An icy splash against his face, however, broke him out of his amazement. It was so sudden and so cold that he cried out in surprise...and the beginnings of fear.

"Storm, I think we've got to -"

His voice was cut off by a vicious gust of chilling wind that threw Storm to one side. The Pteryx growled as he fought to remain level, beating his wings furiously and thrashing his tail to regain balance. The blast of wind was followed by darkness and what seemed like a solid sheet of rain. Lonji didn't see or feel any drops - it was just like someone took a giant bucket and dumped it from high above. The torrent crashed down onto them, and Lonji gasped at the pain and iciness of the impact. Storm must've flown in conditions like this before; he was able to stay aloft, but his wingbeats were getting slower and weaker as his feathers were soaked through with the chilling water.

"Land!" Lonji managed to shout, hoping Storm could hear him through the downpour and howling wind.

The Pteryx screeched in reply, as if to say that he was doing the best he could. Lonji dearly hoped his mount could handle this, but they weren't able to maintain altitude, and the jungle canopy was coming up fast. He desperately clung to Storm's back, his heart beating harder and harder as Storm screeched and furiously beat his sodden wings, to no avail. They plummeted like a stone, rider and mount crying out in dismay until they hit the trees, and they knew no more.


	15. The Lost Chapters: 3

Lonji was having a nightmare: hideous creatures that looked like gross, giant insects captured him, beat him, and threw him into a vat of waxy gel. His head was the only part of him sticking out of the goo, and the rest of him was paralyzed, trapped. The creatures put things down his throat and over his eyes, and he tried to scream...but they shot electricity through his body and -

He jolted awake, soaked in sweat. He tried to sit up, gasping when pain flared through his whole body. Was he still trapped in that vat, with those terrible creatures? He dared to take a peek, and his eyes snapped open in surprise. He was in a dark room, lying on a cot of some kind that was sitting against a wall. On the far side of the room, there was a window covered by a heavy, ragged curtain. Thin beams of light cut through the holes and gave some illumination to the area, but most of the room remained in shadow. There wasn't much else that Lonji could tell about his surroundings without turning his head, but when he tried to move, his neck and shoulders sang with fresh, stabbing pain. He grunted, stifling a curse.

"So he lives after all," a voice said from one of the darkened corners of the room.

Lonji's eyes searched the room and locked on a dim, orange glow. It rose and came closer, and the owner of the voice stepped forward so that Lonji could see him. It was an Oompa-loompa, of course, but not like any that Lonji had grown accustomed to seeing during his time here. This one was somewhat taller than Lonji, and thicker around the chest. He was dressed in dark green fatigues, which were torn and patched in multiple places. His grey-flecked hair was cropped short, almost shaved, and his forehead was lined from frequent frowns. If anything, he looked like a soldier from Lonji's memories of Wonka's Factory...except that his nose was crooked like it had been broken at one time, and he had a thick, neatly trimmed moustache. The orange glow had been the butt of the cigarette in his mouth, which he took a pull on as he looked down on Lonji in contemplation.

"You had quite a fall, didn't you, little man?" he finally said, smoke trailing out with his words.

"Must've been nasty, trying to fly in that storm. I figured that a Sky Patrol rider wouldn't be so careless."

"I'm not with them," Lonji managed to say, the very act of talking sending flashes of pain through his neck.

The smoking Loompa looked unmoved.

"Then tell me, how you were able to fly a Pteryx, if you're not with Sky Patrol?"

Lonji wasn't sure why, but he felt his guard going up. He scrambled for a convincing lie.

"I...rescued him. He was injured, and I found him and helped him. He...imprinted on me or something, and we've been together ever since." As Lonji spoke the words, it dawned on him that Storm might've actually been lying somewhere, injured, and he gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit up.

"He could be hurt right now! I have to find him! He -"

The smoking Loompa stepped up and pushed him back down on the cot, drawing another breath on his cigarette before chuckling.

"Don't worry about your friend; he's been taken care of. You, however, are a more delicate matter. After all, it's not every day that a random rider comes crashing down by my house." He puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette, gauging Lonji's distrustful expression.

"I suppose introductions are in order," he finally said. "I'm Lakan, professional survivalist and hermit extraordinaire. And you would be?"

Lonji let the silence stretch for a moment, then he finally replied.

"Lonji. Flavor scout for Wellan Windsor."

Lakan stifled a surprised snort.

"The chocolate sauce guy? That's interesting. And what would a flavor scout be doing out in a monsoon?"

"It was a mistake," Lonji reluctantly admitted. "I was heading for the lake to the south, and I wasn't paying attention to the weather."

"You almost died," Lakan said lowly, his tone disapproving. You and your Pteryx." He paused to stomp out his cigarette, then clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing.

"I came across you and your mount while I was out hunting. You were bashed up pretty good, and it was a miracle you hadn't broken anything. You did have a bad gash in your shoulder from a branch or something, but I stitched it up and there's no sign of infection. As for your Pteryx, well..."

Lonji felt his stomach turn to ice.

"What's wrong? Is he okay?"

Lakan stopped pacing and turned to face Lonji.

"He only sprained his wing, not to worry. He'll recover fine, given time and rest."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem," Lakan said, his voice nearing a growl, "Is the time. You've already been lying in that cot for two days. You can't leave until your mount is well enough to fly, and until then, I'm stuck with you both. Not very becoming for a hermit, you understand."

Lonji felt indignation surge through him, and he forced himself to sit up again so he could glare at the other Loompa.

"If you feel so inconvenienced by us, then why did you bother rescuing us at all?"

"Because riders don't abandon fellow riders!" Lakan snapped, looking surprised at himself when he realized what he had said.

Lonji looked at him curiously, his anger melting away.

"You ride a Pteryx?"

Lakan looked remorseful for a moment. "I did. Once. A long time ago. But not anymore." His eyes seemed to look into the past, until he shook his head and returned to the present. "Nevermind all that. Sorry." He sighed, managing a faint smile. "So, Lonji, how do you feel about walking? Seeing as you have to stick around for a bit, I might as well show you the place."

In spite of the pain, Lonji managed to stand up from the cot. "Then let's get started."


	16. The Lost Chapters: 4

Lakan led Lonji out of the room and down a narrow corridor, slowing his pace so that Lonji could limp beside him.

"Did you build this place yourself?" Lonji asked.

Lakan scoffed. "Hell no. I might be good at improvising a shelter, but making concrete from scrap is a bit past my skill level." He paused to slap the wall beside him. "One foot of concrete, reinforced with iron rebar. It's sturdy and solid, but not very insulated. Suffice it to say, when it's cold, it's cold, and when it's hot, it's hot. The floor is concrete, too, just the bare foundation for this place. It used to be an old Ground Patrol outpost, but it was abandoned by the time I came across it."

They came to a stop in front of an old, red door, showing dark wood where the paint had chipped or peeled off.

"This is an old logistics center, but now I use it as storage...and a place to sleep."

Lakan pushed open the door, and Lonji was astonished at the size and layout of the space. It was at least thirty feet in length, and about the same in width. On the far wall there was a bank of monitors, all dark and dusty, and on the other walls there were shelves and racks filled with neat rows of supplies. In the corners, there were stacks of crates that likely held more supplies or weapons, and in the very center there was a cot, much like the one Lonji had been sleeping on. Lonji took all this in, brow furrowing.

"So you live out here on your own. But what for? Why come out here?"

Lakan grunted, brushing past Lonji to walk over to one of the shelves on the other side of the room.

"Because it's quiet. Or was." He picked up a crossbow, obviously handmade, along with a quiver of arrows. He turned to look directly at Lonji while he slung the quiver over his shoulder. "I guess I already spilled the beans earlier, so you know I used to fly Pteryx. I was, back then, a rider for the Sky Patrol." His eyes became misty as he thought back.

"New Loompaland was different back then - or perhaps that's just my own recollection - but the Sky Patrol I came to be a part of was honorable. Courageous. Full of integrity. We took care of the country from the canopy up. We protected our fellow citizens from alien invaders and vicious, flying predators. And above all, we took care of each other."

"Riders don't abandon fellow riders," Lonji murmured, recalling what Lakan had said earlier.

"Our motto," Lakan affirmed solemnly. "Unfortunately, I didn't realize how literal the phrase was...until the end."

"What do you mean?"

Lakan adjusted the strap of his quiver, clenching his jaw in anger.

"Well, apparently when your mount...your partner and best friend...dies...you're no longer considered a rider. And you're no longer fit to be part of Sky Patrol." He spat the last words bitterly. "So. In the end, I not only lost my Pteryx and my ability to fly, but I lost my fellow riders as well."

"They kicked you out?" Lonji asked incredulously.

"That's putting it lightly," Lakan said with a snort. "They hung me out to dry. Kicked me to the curb. I got no pension, no apology. Nothing. Just a message on a little slip of paper, and out the door I went - like I hadn't sacrificed the best years of my life in the service. Like it was all...for nothing."

Lakan grinned ruefully. "Sky Patrol abandoned me. So I abandoned society. I got away from civilization, hid out, and spied on Ground Patrol for a while. I watched them do their thing and picked up a few skills, and when they got lazy years back and stopped patrolling any farther than a mile from the town and city limits, I took over this old outpost they left behind. And I've been here ever since." He casually inspected his crossbow, gauging Lonji's expression. "So, got any more questions?"

Lonji could think of several, but he asked the most pressing one first. "Where is Storm - my Pteryx?"

"I'll show you," Lakan said dryly. "Come this way." He led Lonji to a door on the right, just past a row of shelves stocked with dozens of cans. This door was metal, and was secured with several locks. Lakan proceeded to unlock them, sliding back bolts and turning keys with quick, well-practiced movements. He paused when he came to the last one, hand resting over the turnkey.

"Now I must warn you," he said lowly, "that whatever you do, don't make any quick movements. Stay behind me, and move like I do. There are a lot of mighty powerful creatures down here on the ground. I'd hate for you to do something stupid and get yourself killed."

"I'll be careful," Lonji promised.

Lakan seemed to accept that, and he opened the final lock. He loaded his crossbow and lifted it to one shoulder with a hand, using the other to turn the door knob.

"Be careful, kid," he said as he pushed the door open. "Don't lose your head."


	17. The Lost Chapters: 5

Lonji peered through the open door, squinting at the change in brightness as he followed Lakan outside. His breath caught in his throat as his surroundings took shape around him - they had come out of the compound, a low, L-shaped structure that was well-camouflaged by an overgrowth of ivy, shrubs, and grass. All around them were trees, or rather, the massive trunks of trees. Each one was at least ten feet in diameter, their branches stretching high above to create a spectacular spreading canopy that blotted out most of the sky. The storm that had downed Lonji and his mount appeared to be long gone. Long streaks of sunlight poured through the gaps to create dappled patterns on the forest floor, highlighting bushes, boulders, and eons' worth of decomposing leaf litter. Somewhere, high up in the branches, a lone bird was singing.

Lonji had felt small before, but standing here, beneath the trees, he finally realized just how small his two-foot stature really was.

"So what do you think of that, little man?" Lakan asked, amused by Lonji's astonishment.

"It's incredible," Lonji murmured, and he really meant it. Lakan grinned in agreement.

"Isn't it? And just imagine - this whole planet is covered in dense forests like this, except for the bodies of water, of course. But sights like this, you can find all over the place."

He waved for Lonji to follow him, rounding the nearest corner of the compound. They followed the wall for a little ways, stepping lightly to make as little noise as possible over the scattered leaves and twigs. They turned another corner, and there, not more than a stone's throw away, was a large, wooden structure covered by piles of leaves and sticks. It was probably a shed, and most likely the place where Storm was being kept. But there was a problem.

Lonji didn't notice it at first, and he started to move forward until Lakan seized him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

"What are you, blind?" he growled, pointing.

Lonji followed his finger and realized what he had missed. On top of the shed, there was something Lonji had never seen the likes of before - not here or even in his memories of Wonka's Factory. He could tell it was some kind of animal, wolf-like almost. But he had never heard of a wolf with green fur, or with such long, oversized canine teeth. In Lonji's defense, it would have been difficult to spot if Lakan hadn't pointed it out; its green fur was mottled with brown and black patches, camouflaging it perfectly against the leaves and sticks on the shed's roof. Lonji didn't know if it had noticed them yet - it was lying down with its paws tucked neatly beneath it, eyes closed and ears twitching. It looked like it was asleep.

"Stay here," Lakan ordered, moving forward slowly.

"Are you gonna kill it?" Loni whispered nervously.

"Just stay here," Lakan hissed.

Lonji didn't really have much of a choice; his feet felt rooted to the ground. He could barely breathe as he watched Lakan approach the shed, and he was sure he felt his heart stop when, against all reason, Lakan laid his crossbow on the ground and softly whistled. The wolf-thing snapped awake, its amber eyes locking on him. For a horrible moment, Lonji envisioned the beast ripping Lakan to shreds, then coming after him. He watched in horror as the beast leapt down from the shed, its large paws hardly making a sound. It bared its fangs, strode over to Lakan, and...started licking his face. Lakan laughed, stroking the long fur around the beast's neck.

"Good girl, Rona. Thanks for guarding our guest. But now I want you to meet his friend."

Lakan turned to look back at Lonji. "It's okay. kid - you can come over here now."

Lonji hesitated, feeling at once relieved and indignant as he struggled to make his frozen legs obey him. "What - what is that thing?" he asked.

Lakan snorted in amusement. "Not a thing, little man. A she. A Lycran. Her name's Rona."

Since Lonji seemed to be having trouble moving, Lakan went over to him with Rona following at his heels. Well, above them. She stood at least a foot taller than Lakan, and from nose to tail she was probably five feet.

Lonji eyed the creature warily. "Is she safe?"

"Of course," Lakan said, giving a hand signal to Rona, who sat obediently in response.

"Well then why did you grab me and pull me back?" Lonji asked, flustered.

"Because she was napping," Lakan said, like that was explanation enough. When Lonji's skeptical expression didn't change, he sighed. "Rona is a light sleeper. Even when she's napping, her senses are still razor sharp. She will awaken and snap into action if she hears or senses anyone coming, but unfortunately she will not discriminate between friend or foe in that situation. It's pure instinct. I've even been attacked by her a few times, but then I developed a special signal to let her know it's me. Now if I approach her, I give that low whistle and she won't rip me to pieces."

"So if I had woken her, she would have attacked me," Lonji said, finally understanding. He stole a quick glance at Rona, who was sniffing the air, but didn't appear threatening at the moment.

"So, um, how did you and Rona...meet? I've never heard of Lycrans. Do other people have them?"

Lakan shrugged. "We met probably the same way you and your Pteryx happened to meet. I'd been living down here for maybe three months. It was rough, being alone. Never knowing if something was following me, waiting to kill and eat me. I always had to look over my shoulder, and check the outpost to make sure nothing crawled in without my knowing. It was miserable, but I had resigned myself to this life and the idea that it was never going to get any better.

Then one day I was out hunting, when I came across this little furry cub. It was Rona, abandoned by her pack. I'd heard them running through the forest before, howling as they passed by. I suppose Rona's mother hadn't expected her to survive - when I found her, she had an infected cut on her leg, and she was too weak to protest when I picked her up and brought her back here. I treated her, and by the time she recovered, she seemed to have grown attached to me."

"Like imprinting with the Pteryx," Lonji said.

"Something like that." Lakan chuckled. "Let me tell you, it was a great relief to have her around after that. No better guard than a Lycran. And as for anyone else having one, well..."

He stopped himself, forcing a grin. "But hey, what am I doing rambling on here? You want to see your Pteryx, right? Let's get on with it, then!" He walked over to the shed, with Lonji following and Rona trailing behind them. There was a padlock holding a swinging door shut, and Lakan produced a key to unlock it. After returning the key to his pocket, he pulled the door open and let Lonji go in before him. The shed had no lights or windows, so Lakan left the door open and let Rona stand guard outside. He chuckled as he watched Lonji reunite with his Pteryx - Storm had been lying curled up in the back corner of the shed, but when he heard and smelled Lonji come in, he scrambled into a sitting position and chittered excitedly. Lonji went over to him and stroked his flank in relief.

"Hey buddy. I'm so glad you're all right. We really messed up this time, didn't we?"

Storm snorted and gave him a sharp look.

"Okay, maybe it was more of my fault - I'll admit that. I should've listened to Grandad. Maybe waited to fly this far in better weather conditions."

Storm grunted, satisfied with the apology. He nudged Lonji playfully with his snout, but drew back with a sharp hiss as he raised his left foreleg.

"And that would be the wing you injured," Lakan said, stepping inside the shed. Storm eyed him carefully, but accepted his presence with a snort.

"He's got to rest it," Lakan said to Lonji. "It's the only way it's going to get better."

"Won't that make him weak?" Lonji asked.

"Well, once he's rested it enough, we can let him walk on it a little. And then when he can walk on it completely, he can try short bursts of flight. Like I said - it will take time."

Lonji stroked the feathers on Storm's shoulder, prompting the Pteryx to lie down. "Is there anything I can do to help him heal?"

Lakan looked at him thoughtfully. "Well, any creature on the mend has got to eat. How do you feel about hunting?"


	18. The Lost Chapters: 6

**Authors' Note** : Thank you, _elevat0r_ , for your encouraging comment! This story is still In Progress, but it is good to know that other readers still enjoy the original story!

* * *

It had taken some pushing, but Lakan finally convinced Lonji to trust Rona enough to get up on her back. Still sore from his injuries, Lonji bit his lip as he climbed up to sit behind Lakan.

"Why can't we just hunt on foot?" he asked, trying not so sound like he was whining.

"We've got some ground to cover, and riding's a whole lot faster than walking. It's the second rule of living on the ground, kid," Lakan said as he prodded Rona with his heels, and she took off in a swift but graceful lope. "You don't hunt where you live - unless you want the scavengers to come and hang around."

Lonji didn't reply, too focused on clinging to Rona. It was a lot different than riding on a Pteryx...up in the air, the ride was smoother. Here on the ground, the riders rose and fell with the mount's strides. Every fall sent flashes of pain through Lonji's body, but he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. He thought about Storm and helping him get better, and that helped to block the pain a little. Eventually, Lakan called for Rona to stop, and she crouched down for Lakan and Lonji to slide off.

Lonji shook off the cramping and soreness in his legs, looking around as he did. The forest had changed. The trees here were thinner, and dozens of long vines hung down from the canopy. The ground was obscured by patches of grass and leafy thickets. The light was brighter here, too. Looking up, Lonji saw that the canopy was sparser, and he could see bright blue patches of sky through the vine-clad branches. He returned his attention to Lakan, who was examining a patch of loose dirt.

"What are you doing?"

"Tracking," Lakan said. He pointed at some smudges in the dirt.

"See that? those are paw prints. Looks like there's rabbits around here. If I'm right, we'll be seeing some scat...ah, and there it is." He took a couple steps and kicked at some dry, roundish pellets on the ground.

"Rabbit droppings," he said for Lonji's benefit.

"So, um, how do we find them?" Lonji asked.

Lakan grinned. "We don't have to. Rona's great at flushing them out, and catching some herself. Watch." He turned to Rona, who was watching him expectantly.

"Rabbits, Rona. Sic 'em."

The Lycran lifted her nose to scent the air, ears twitching as she listened. Her eyes locked on a thicket several feet away, and she leapt toward it, growling. She batted the foliage with her huge paws, and two brown rabbits broke cover, racing toward Lakan. Crossbow ready, Lakan shot them both in quick succession, and they squealed before dropping to the ground, dead. He went over to them and picked one up. It was easily ten pounds, and he handed it to Lonji.

"Feed a few of these to your friend for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and he'll be better in no time."

"He'll eat this?"

Lakan rolled his eyes. "Of course. What do you think Pteryx eat, nuts and berries?"

It occurred to Lonji that he hadn't really given it much thought. Storm and Doris always foraged for themselves when they weren't being ridden. He hadn't considered that they might actually hunt for their food.

Lakan picked up the other rabbit and dropped it into a sack that he had brought along. Lonji put his rabbit in with it, and Lakan slung the sack over his shoulder.

"We're not just limited to rabbits, of course," he said, walking over to where Rona was neatly tearing into a rabbit she had caught for herself.

"There's all kinds of birds and rodents that we can catch, too. And if you're not into shooting them, I can show you how to build and set traps, as well."

The idea of killing anything turned Lonji's stomach, but if it would help him and Storm get home sooner, then he had no choice but to do it. "I'm happy to learn whatever you want to teach me," Lonji said. Lakan looked at him, like he was sizing him up. "It won't be easy, but I'll do it. Let's get started."

* * *

For the next two days, Lonji learned whatever Lakan felt like teaching him, from tracking rabbits and birds, to using and repairing a crossbow. It made his stomach turn every time, but Lonji was able to kill some rabbits, and even a pigeon, which Lakan roasted for them over a fire that night. Sitting in front of the fire, with Rona and Storm lying at their backs, Lakan and Lonji ate Lonji's kill. And as they ate, they talked.

"I have to say you've improved a lot, kid," Lakan said as he bit into a hot drumstick. "You've done well, and your Pteryx is healing up quite nicely. I'm surprised, I really am."

"Lonji smiled, embarrassed. "Was I really that bad two days ago?"

"You bet," Lakan said. "But I suppose for a kid who's known nothing but the treetops, you weren't as bad as most folks."

Lonji put down his food, suddenly losing his appetite. Lakan noticed.

"What's the matter? I thought you said you like roast pigeon."

"It's not the food," Lonji said, sighing. "It's what you said just now, about 'knowing nothing but the treetops.' The truth is, I was on the ground before this, once." He clenched his hands angrily.

"I don't remember it - I got amnesia or something afterwards - but it was supposed to be a present for my eighteenth birthday. My parents were with me, probably showing me the same beauty that you've been showing me."

"What happened?" Lakan asked, his voice tense with anticipation.

"My sister says we were attacked...or that I told her that we were attacked. By KNIDs. They killed my parents, almost killed me. Ground Patrol found me, unconscious, my memory of the incident repressed..." he trailed off, staring at the flickering campfire.

Lakan cursed under his breath and stood up. Lonji noticed.

"I know, it's a depressing story. Sorry."

"It's not that," Lakan said, kicking some dirt on the fire. "It's just that...well. I've got to show you something."


	19. The Lost Chapters: 7

Lakan didn't elaborate any further after he put out the fire, only climbing on Rona's back and motioning for Lonji to mount Storm.

"Follow quickly, but quietly," was all he said. Then he and Rona dashed off into the darkness.

By now, Storm's wing had healed enough so that he could fly for short distances. So once Lonji swung himself onto Storm's back, the Pteryx lifted off, beating his wings with slow, powerful strokes. They followed after Lakan through thick darkness that was broken only by patches of moonlight that filtered through the treetops. Lonji couldn't see where they were going, but he trusted that Storm could - he merely kept his seat as the Pteryx banked and beat his wings to keep up with Rona. They rushed through the jungle at this pace for several minutes, then came to an abrupt stop, Rona skidding to a halt and Storm cupping his wings so suddenly that Lonji almost flew off. Storm dropped to the ground, careful not to drop on his left foreleg. Lonji slid off and went over to where Lakan had dismounted and was now slowly stroking Rona.

"So what was so important that we had to come out here and see?"

Lakan turned to look at him, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"You asked me about Lycrans before, remember? and if anyone else had one?"

"Yes, but what -"

"And tonight, you told me about you and your parents being attacked."

Lonji furrowed his brow. "Are you saying the two things are related? That Lycrans attacked me and killed my parents, not KNIDs?"

Lakan drew in a deep breath, sighing.

"I don't really know, kid."

"Then why -"

"Let's just say I have a hunch," Lakan said. He looked over at Storm, who was sitting erect, head feathers pricked up like he was listening for something.

"I need you to come with me, but he and Rona will both need to stay here. You got a signal to call him?"

Lonji nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Come this way, and be stealthy about it." He gestured toward Rona, who sat obediently, then disappeared through some shrubs. Lonji motioned for Storm to stay, then followed Lakan. Though Lonji held his arms in front of him, the bushes still clawed at his face in the darkness until he finally pushed free and into the open - then he was forcefully pulled down to the ground. Lonji lashed out on instinct, but relaxed when he realized it was Lakan.

"What was that for?" Lonji hissed.

Lakan didn't reply, merely using his hand to turn Lonji's head to make him look in the other direction. Lonji's breath caught in his throat, and for a long time he couldn't think of anything to say. They had come out of the bushes to the brow of a hill. At the bottom, there was a tall chain link fence that was topped with loops of razor wire and bright floodlights. the fence stretched for hundreds of feet, wrapping around the perimeter of an even more impressive building that glared grey in the bright wash of the floodlights. The building was at least twenty feet high, which was huge in Loompa standards. There were windows, but they were secured with iron bars on the outside. There appeared to be several doors, each one guarded by a soldier dressed in greenish-grey fatigues. One of the doors was at least six feet tall and four feet wide...possibly a door to the motor pool. After he took it all in, Lonji finally thought of something to say.

"What is this place? And who are those men?"

"They're Ground Patrol," Lakan said lowly, "or at least what's become of it with the government cutbacks. And that place they're guarding is a research facility. I've been trying to break into it for months, but I've never had much luck. Until now."

Lonji looked at him incredulously. "You want me to help you break in?"

"Was that a question, or an offer?"

"A question! How can I help you break in? I'm not a criminal!"

Lakan grunted. "I'm not asking you to be a criminal. I'm asking you to help me, so I can show you why I brought you here. I'm asking you to help me, because I think that whatever's in there will help answer your questions about what happened to you and your parents."

Lonji stared at him in question. "Do you even know what's in there?"

Lakan nodded slowly. "I think I do. I was scoping this place out for months, and made attempts to get through that fence undetected. But they have cameras, and they have guards that circle the perimeter. Let's just say I've had some pretty narrow escapes." He frowned. "But from what I was able to observe, I know that they're conducting some kind of experiments. And I think they're doing it on animals."

Lonji felt a knot form in his stomach. "Like Lycrans?"

Lakan nodded sadly. "And Pteryx. Anything they can get their hands on. I don't know what sort of tests they're doing, but I've seen a lot of animals go in...and none of them come out."

"So...you want to free them?"

Lakan nodded again, his voice determined. "More than that. I want to release them and destroy the place."

"And how are we going to do that?"

Lakan clapped Lonji on the shoulder, grinning. "Simple. Call your Pteryx."

* * *

They were a blur. A shadow. A cloud passing over. Storm glided soundlessly through the air, high above the brightly lit fence, past the unsuspecting guards, and landed on a shadowy edge of the grey building. Lakan and Lonji dismounted, and Storm padded away to wait near a humming air conditioning unit. Lonji passed him one last smile before following Lakan, who was creeping cautiously toward the roof access door. Unexpectedly, it started to swing open. Without hesitation, Lakan quick-stepped forward so that he was hidden behind the door. Lonji ducked to the side, crouching behind a stack of flaking, wooden pallets. He held his breath and watched as a Loompa wearing a white lab coat walked out, coughing as he lit up a cigarette. Before he could put it in his mouth, Lakan came up behind him and slammed him in the back of the head, knocking him out cold.

"And that's how it's done," he said as Lonji came out from his hiding place. He paused, stooping down to retrieve the scientist's pack of cigarettes and lighter. "You oughta be taking notes, kid."

"So now what?" Lonji asked.

"Well," Lakan said, looking down at the passed-out scientist, "I wouldn't make a very passable scientist with my face and build. But you...how about you try on his coat?"

Lonji scowled at him, but he was surprised to find the lab coat fit him perfectly. He also plucked the scientist's ID card from where it was clipped to his shirt. Lonji read the name.

"Jasku Galago."

"Doctor Jasku Galago," Lakan corrected, grinning. "How does it feel to have your graduate degree?"

Lonji snorted. "Better than being hit in the head, I suppose. Let's get this over with." He went to the access door and swiped the ID card through a slot beside it. A light flashed green, and there was a click as the lock opened. Lakan pulled the door open, and they were in.


	20. The Lost Chapters: 8

They descended two flights of stairs before coming across a door marked Containment. This door looked heavier than the one on the roof, and after tapping on it lightly, Lakan confirmed. "Solid metal. Probably has an airseal, too. Whatever's in here, they don't want getting out."

Lonji swiped the ID card. "But we do, right?"

"Yes, but..." Lakan hesitated.

"What?" Lonji demanded.

"We can't break anything out until we figure out the scope of what we're dealing with. How many animals are there? Where are the closest exits that they'll fit through? You've seen Rona - she wouldn't fit through a Loompa-sized door. Your Pteryx wouldn't fit either. Whatever's behind this door, we need to scout it out first, move on to the next level, then plan how we're going to get as many animals as we can out and free until we get caught."

"I...I hadn't thought of that," Lonji said, paling. For a moment he imagined being apprehended by those soldiers he had seen outside. Thrown in jail. Put on trial for breaking and entering. What would Grandad say? Lylia? He pushed the thought away. It didn't matter right now. All that mattered was what waited behind this door.

"All right," he said to Lakan, "We'll look, and then be out. Let's go."

Lakan's eyes flashed fiercely as he opened the door. It was sealed until Lakan pulled it open. Now they could hear everything the door had been holding back - the screeches and shrieks and howling and baying that seemed to make the very air vibrate with pain and fear. Then there was the smell, a horrible stench of feces and rotting flesh and drying blood and urine and sweat. Lonji almost doubled over as he dry heaved, and Lakan scowled as he looked around. This floor had been built to accommodate the larger size of the animals, but the cages hadn't - there were rows of them, five feet high and five feet square, with more cages stacked on top. Dozens of cages. Maybe a hundred. They held Lycrans and Pteryx of varying ages and colors, as well as rabbits and brightly colored birds and large, bear-like creatures with cloven hooves that Lakan identified as Scoloths. It was a terrible sight, to see all the animals hunched over and crammed in a cage that was barely large enough for them to turn around in, coated with their own excreta and sweat. Lonji could only look for a minute before gagging again, and by then Lakan was dragging him by the sleeve back to the door.

"We've stayed long enough," he growled, angered by what they were seeing. Lonji pushed open the door, startled to see that someone else was standing there. It was another scientist, this one balding and wearing thick, round spectacles through which he peered at the ID card clipped to Lonji's front pocket.

"Ah, Dr. Galago. We wondered where you'd gone to."

"Uh, just had a smoke," Lonji said uneasily.

"Dr. Galago wanted to make some rounds through Containment before returning to his station," Lakan said gruffly.

The scientist seemed to suddenly notice him, and looked up at him in surprise. "And who, uh, are you?"

"Security," Lakan replied. "Dr. Galago wanted me with him in case one of the subjects broke out of containment while he was in there."

The scientist chuckled nervously. "Uh, yes, I suppose that makes sense." He hastily turned to Lonji. "Anyway, Dr. Galago, we need you down in the Labs. We've finished the few final touches on the neural transmitter, and we thought you'd like to be present to see how it works."

Lonji nodded weakly. "Sure. Let's go."

* * *

The door to the Labs looked very much like the door to Containment, except this one required a keycode as well as a card swipe. The spectacled scientist punched the number and swiped his card, then opened the door for Lonji to go in. He nervously stood in the way of Lakan and apologized. "I'm sorry, only scientists allowed."

Lakan seemed to take it in stride.

"Of course, sir." He smiled grimly as he adjusted the collar of the scientist's lab coat. "Just call me when one of those nasty beasts gets loose, because you and your friends will be no better than fish in a barrel." He stepped back and winked at Lonji. It was then that Lonji saw the ID card of the spectacled scientist in his hand.

"I'll catch up," Lakan mouthed. Then the door closed between them.


End file.
